


Cruisin'

by palominopup



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, Author Dean, Chef Castiel, Gay Sex, M/M, Switch Castiel, Switch Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-10-26 23:00:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 79,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10796541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palominopup/pseuds/palominopup
Summary: Sam is tired of hearing his brother whine about not being able to get a date, but a gay man in a small Southern town doesn’t have a whole lot of choices. Sam wishes Dean would move to a big city, he could write anywhere – couldn’t he? But no, Dean refuses to leave his little brother, even if said brother is thirty-four, married and expecting his first child. Without Dean’s knowledge, Sam enters him in the contest to win a cruise.Dean is livid when he is informed he has won a trip to the Caribbean…on a fuckin’ cruise ship. Dean doesn’t like planes or boats – they can fall out of the sky or sink to the murky depths. Besides he was on a deadline for his next book. His publisher was starting to get impatient. Gay romance wasn’t easy to write when your love life sucked balls. Reluctantly, he packed his bags and decided to make the best of it.Castiel and his business partner, Balthazar, booked the cruise to celebrate the success of their new restaurant. Balthazar said it would be a great place to meet men. Castiel didn’t have time for entanglements with The Delta’s popularity. As head chef, he stayed too busy for a relationship, but maybe some no-strings shipboard sex would be just what the doctor ordered.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A special thanks to G33KDiva for doing my edits for me.

 

The OB-GYN lobby was crowded with women in various stages of pregnancy. Sam sat next to Mari, his very pregnant wife, thumbing through a magazine. Mari was scratching away in the small journal she kept for her ‘brainstorms’ as she liked to call them. Having a wife that wrote gay erotica was strange enough, but did she have to be discussing a plot with his brother in the waiting room?

“So he’s against the headboard, facing the wall… how would Steve be rimming him?” The woman across from them, barely showing in her lacy maternity top, gaped at her. Sam gave her a smile that he hoped would reassure the soon-to-be mother that his wife wasn’t a lunatic. He could hear his brother, Dean, describing gay sex in all its glory on the other end of the phone, while his wife nodded and scribbled notes.

He supposed he should be grateful to Dean for introducing him to Mari. She was the best thing that ever happened to him. Strangely enough, Dean and Mari were friends long before Sam met her. They’d met at a gay romance writers’ workshop in San Francisco. She came to Abita Springs to spend a weekend with Dean and that’s when Sam first laid his eyes on her. She was funny, and later he found out she was wild in the sack. A year later, they were married. While her name wasn’t as well-known as Dean’s in the publishing world, she held her own by supplementing her income with making and selling her own line of infant clothing.

After four happy years, they finally were going to have a baby of their own. He rested one of his large hands on her pronounced belly before turning the page. It was an issue of GQ. Sam wasn’t really interested in the pretentious article on dressing for success; he lived in Abita Springs, Louisiana, for Christ’s sake. No one cared if his suits came from Hugo Boss. But there was a complete lack of reading material geared towards men in the clinic.

As Mari droned on and on with Dean about the pros and cons of shaved testicles, Sam’s eye was drawn to an advertisement for a sweepstakes. The winner would receive an all-expense paid cruise aboard the Dreamcatcher. It was a gay cruise. His brother was gay. His brother – who kept complaining about being unable to get laid in the town with a population of less than three thousand – would hate this. Sam smiled and carefully ripped out the page. The woman across from them gave him a bitchface that rivaled his own. “Honey, did you get the rimming question answered?” He asked, just loud enough for Miss Prim and Prudy to hear. Take that, bitch.

“Yes. Dean said he’d send me a video.” Sam smiled indulgently. His wife watched gay porn… sometimes with his brother… who offered a running commentary. If there was a God in heaven, Sam was going to be named a saint one day.

“Mrs. Winchester,” the nurse called from the doorway. Mari heaved herself up, and Sam followed her down the hall and into an exam room. At seven months, she was to the point where she was tired all the time and complained constantly of having to pee. Sam thought she was the most adorable person on the planet.

 

“Hell no, Sam,” Dean growled, refusing to look at the offending email again. “I don’t fly, and I don’t do boats.”

“This is from the guy who complains about not getting laid because he lives in ‘Smalltown, USA’?”

  
“It’s a boat, Sam. A fuckin’ boat. Boats can sink. Didn’t you ever see the Poseidon Adventure? That’s a rhetorical question, because we watched it together.”

“The Poseidon didn’t sink, it capsized.” Dean blinked steadily at his brother for a solid minute before responding.

“Same thing, only different.” Sam had the audacity to roll his eyes. “I’m not going, Sam.”

“Dean, just look at the pictures.” Sam spun the laptop around so Dean could see the hundreds of gay men, half naked, aboard the ship. Okay, he had to admit there were some hot guys, but knowing his luck, half would be short and bald or hairy. Dean didn’t do bears. Well, except for his friend, Benny, but that was a long time ago. Now, they were just friends without benefits. “Just picture it, Dean -- a plethora of men. A buffet of sexy dudes.”

“Sam, do not ever say anything like that again. You sound gayer than I am.”

Mari and her protruding belly came into the room, a bowl of potato chips in her hand. She leaned over her husband and read the email. “Dean, you have to do this. Too bad it’s not a trip for two. I could get so much research done.”

Dean snagged a chip from the bowl and she slapped his hand. “Mine.”

“Don’t be stingy,” Dean said, swiping another one before she could protest. He stared at the pictures again. The photo of the stateroom looked decent. He could write. A week of writing with no interruptions might be just what the doctor ordered. He’d hit a dry spell, and his deadline was looming. Victor, his publisher, was breathing down his neck. “Okay, so what do I have to do?”

Sam began to read the details. “You have your passport already. It says you have to be in NOLA on the second of March. The Dreamcatcher leaves there and goes to Montego Bay, Grand Cayman, and Cozumel. Everything is included except for alcohol and anything you buy at the shops on board or on the shore excursions.”

Three weeks later, Dean found himself staring up at the cruise ship. Men of every shape, size, and age swarmed around him. Holding his paperwork in his left hand, he pushed the strap of his messenger bag up further on his shoulder with his right and got in the fast-moving line to board. “You must be a model.” Dean bit back the retort and pasted on a smile before turning around. The owner of the voice was shorter than him and was sporting brown hair and a smarmy grin.

“Not even close,” Dean replied, before facing the front again.

“Actor?” Dean huffed out a breath and shook his head.

“Come on, throw me a bone. You’re pretty enough to spread on a cracker.” Dean repeated those words in his head, and it still didn’t make sense.

“Thanks…I think. Look, dude, no offense, but I’m not here to pick up men. I’m just going to relax and get some work done.”

“Well, you know what they say – All work and no play makes…” He looked at Dean expectantly.

“Dean.”

“…makes Dean a dull and sexually frustrated boy.” He held out his hand. “Gabe Speight. Speight Enterprises.”

“And what is Speight Enterprises?” Dean shuffled forward a few steps as the line moved.

“We specialize in educational films.”

“Like for schools?” Dean pictured the boring crap he had to watch in high school.

“Not exactly. More like sexual education for adults.”

Dean laughed. “You make porn.”

“Porn is such a negative word. I prefer erotica.” Since Dean was always looking for research material for his books, he continued to talk to Gabe until they stepped onto the deck of the huge ship. Dean handed his paperwork to the uniformed crew member and listened carefully as he was told where his room was. With a final wave to Gabe, Dean made his way through the crowded hallways. Did you call them halls on a ship? After riding in a crowded elevator with several hairy men, he found the signs leading to the Empress Deck.

The room was small, but he hadn’t expected a first class suite, it was free after all. He did have a window. Dean knew it was expected that the passengers go up on deck and wave to whomever. He’d watched old reruns of The Love Boat and he knew the drill. Dean wasn’t into getting the whole shipboard experience though. He set up his laptop on the small desk and made sure the wi-fi was working properly. After unpacking, he sat down and opened the file that contained his latest book.

Dean had started writing erotica when he was in college, and he’d sold a few to a gay anthology publisher. He’d even developed a cult following for a while. In his mid-twenties, while working for a small travel magazine, he wrote his first full length gay romance novel. It did really well, and he signed with the publisher to do five more. Thirty books later, Dean was making decent money. He was no Tom Clancy, but he could pay his bills.

Lately, his muse was ignoring him. It was hard to write about steamy sex and romance when you hadn’t been laid in over a year. Small town life had its perks, but a healthy dating pool of gay men wasn’t one of them. Sure, Dean could drive the hour it took to get to New Orleans, but the city was expensive, and he hated taking the route that led him over the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway. Twenty-three miles over water wasn’t a fun time.

He was going over his outline again when the ship’s whistle blew. A few minutes later, he could feel the vibration of the engines starting up. This was it. There was no going back now. He glanced at his watch. It was a little after three. He’d work some and then head to one of the many buffets around six.

Castiel checked his boarding pass once more. Behind him in line, Balthazar was chatting up a beautiful African American man. “Yes, I own The Delta. You may have heard of it.”

“We own The Delta,” Castiel corrected automatically, stepping forward with the movement of the line.

“Yes, this is my business partner, the chef, and my favorite pain in the ass.” The man must have given Balthazar a strange look because he quickly added, “No, not that type of pain in the ass. We are just friends.” Castiel smiled. Balthazar had told him they would be each other’s wingman during the cruise. Castiel wasn’t sure he needed a wingman. All he wanted was to find a few nice guys to have fun with. He didn’t want a shipboard romance. He had no time for romance of any kind. With The Delta in its second year and already having received three Michelin stars, he was too busy for a relationship. And that was the main reason he and Balthazar were boarding this cruise.

Once they were on board, the two men made their way through the throng of men toward their staterooms. The elevator took them to the Baja Deck. Their accommodations were adjoining. Castiel put his card into the slot and pushed open the door. His suitcase was already in the room waiting on him. He heard his friend whistle before pushing open the door between the rooms. “We have balconies, Darling. The moon can shine in while we are frolicking with all the new friends we will meet.”

Castiel stepped over to the sliding glass doors and looked out. Right now, the view was of the dirty waters of the Mississippi flowing by, but soon it would be crystal, blue ocean. “When are the dinner services?”

Balthazar picked up the booklet next to the phone and began to read. “There are several buffets, a few fancier places and then the main dining room. I requested dining with the captain one evening, but tonight, I think we are free to do what we please. The International Buffet looks pretty good, and it opens at five.”

“Let’s shoot for six,” Castiel suggested. “I want to take a nap first.” He’d been at the restaurant until after midnight. This cruise was scheduled around the renovations they were doing. The expansion was at a point where they could not be open for business for at least ten days. Last night, Castiel and his staff donated all the fresh food left over to the local soup kitchen and packed up their equipment so the construction crew wouldn’t misplace anything.

“Sounds good. I’m going to do a bit of exploring.” Balthazar wasn’t needed last night, so he got to sleep at a reasonable hour. He patted Castiel’s ass as he left the stateroom. Castiel stripped off his clothes and sprawled out naked on the bed. He was asleep in minutes.

He kept his eyes closed as his phone played a Cajun tune. He stretched and shut off the alarm. He was disoriented at first and then realized he was on the ship and it was moving. Rising from the bed, he went to the glass doors. They were already out into the Gulf.

Taking a quick shower, Castiel dressed in jeans and a crisp, white button-down. He stared into the mirror. Even though he’d shaved that morning, his five o’clock shadow was dark. He shrugged at his reflection. He’d been told it was a good look on him.

He banged on the door between his room and Balthazar’s. When he got no answer, he opened it. He could hear the shower running. He strode into the alcove and stuck his head in the steamy room. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Darling, I’m always ready,” came the reply from behind the foggy glass doors of the shower. Castiel could see the outline of his friend’s nude body. He didn’t feel one iota of sexual interest. Balthazar was his friend and had been since they were in high school. He’d been two years ahead of Castiel, but that didn’t stop them from forming a lasting friendship.

“Are you ever not horny?” Castiel asked, leaning against the counter of the small bathroom.

“Let me think. Uhm, no.” Castiel chuckled. “I’m hoping they serve up something hot and randy at the buffet. I’m leaning towards a couple of twinks. A two for one deal.”

“I think I’ll stick with finding one at a time.”

“Cassie, you are so fuckin’ vanilla.” The corner of Castiel’s mouth went up a fraction. Balthazar had no idea how wrong he was. Castiel could be kinky as hell when he was so inclined. He had a drawer full of various toys, including a cat o’nine tails. He was a master of pleasure and pain, though he didn’t get into the usual BDSM scene. He just knew what he liked. He was saved from responding by Balthazar shutting off the water. Castiel picked up one of the neatly folded towels and tossed it to his friend when he stepped out of the shower. He turned and stepped back into the bedroom and waited by the large window while Balthazar dressed.

The buffet wasn’t nearly as crowded as he suspected it would be. He guessed most people would be dining later. He filled his plate with an assortment of foods and found an empty table near the windows. From here he could see a small portion of the deck and the water beyond. Balthazar waved at him from a table filled with several other men. They all looked to be in their early twenties. Balthazar was a sucker for younger males. Castiel liked a bit more experience in his bed.

He was joined by two other men, dressed in shorts and tank tops. They introduced themselves as Tim and David. Tim was a car salesman from Atlanta, and David was a computer analyst from Dallas. They talked as strangers often did, of their jobs and all the things they wanted to see and do on their vacation aboard the ship. Castiel’s gaze flitted over the room. He was a people watcher. His eyes lit on a man two tables over. He was truly beautiful and by the men surrounding him, everyone else thought so too. Interestingly enough, he didn’t look pleased by the attention. The close-cropped, brown hair and the lean, but strong-looking physique drew Castiel’s attention. He had a handsome profile. Castiel licked his lips as the man drank from his bottle of beer.

Castiel tried to focus on what his tablemates were saying, but his eyes kept coming back to the other man. When he stood and headed for the door leading to the deck, Castiel noticed how bowed his legs were and imagined them wrapped around his waist. He slid his chair back. “Excuse me, gentlemen, I have something to do, but I’m sure I’ll see you around.” They said their goodbyes, and Castiel pushed open the door. He caught a glimpse of a jean-clad ass rounding a corner and took off at a light jog.

He slowed when he saw the object of his fantasies leaning against the rail. He squared his shoulders and approached. “Beautiful night,” he murmured. Green eyes the color of a spring meadow met his own. A smattering of freckles completed this perfect specimen. In the golden light of the sunset, he was nothing short of breathtaking.

“Yeah, if you like being in a floating metal casket that could hit an iceberg and sink at any given time.” Castiel tilted his head and tried to make sense out of the man’s words. When he began to blush, Castiel chuckled.

“I don’t think icebergs are an issue in the Gulf.”

“You never know. Stranger things have happened.” He went back to staring out to sea. Castiel leaned down so his elbow rested against the other man.

“Very true. Take the Bermuda Triangle, the countless shipwrecks, or the biannual migration of rays in the Gulf.” Castiel felt the man’s eyes on him and he turned. Wide, incredulous eyes met his.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean’s plan had been to eat and then head back to the room to see if some inspiration would find him. If he could get in a couple thousand words, it would be a start anyway. When he left the dining room, he made the mistake of stopping at the railing, and even though he was on a floating death trap, the sunset was awesome.

And then tall, dark, and handsome showed up with his gravelly sex voice, and all thoughts of typing out words on his laptop disappeared. Dean had been prepared to blow off yet another guy hitting on him, but that voice… Then he made the mistake of making eye contact with the most striking blue eyes he had ever seen, and for a minute, he completely forgot how to brain. Of course, he came across as a whack-job and the poor guy must think he’s a few French fries short of a Happy Meal.

“Really? Way to make me feel better. Tell me, Sunshine, are you always full of this much cheer?”

“My people skills are rusty. Or at least that’s what my friends say.” He looked like he was ready to bolt and strangely enough, Dean didn’t want him to. This trip was supposed to be spent writing his next novel, not flirting with someone who looked like they could grace the cover of Playgirl or Gay Times, not that Dean ever purchased one of those magazines.

“Hey, it’s cool. Just rattling your chain. So…uhm…where are you from?”

“I’m from Boston, but I live in New Orleans.” He pronounced it ‘New Aw-lans’ like a local. Dean was impressed. Of course, with a voice like that, Dean would have been impressed if he heard him reading the phone book.

“And what do you do in NOLA?” While they had been talking, Dean had taken a few covert glances at the other man’s physique. Strong thighs were outlined in the tight, worn jeans. His arms were well defined without being too buff. He was wearing an untucked button-down, so Dean couldn’t see if his abs were ripped… but he was guessing they were. His sleeves were rolled up to just below the elbow and Dean was surprised to find that forearms were definitely sexy as fuck.

“I’m a chef.”

“That’s cool. Where?”

“Are you familiar with New Orleans?”

“A little. I live in Abita Springs. I try to stay away from the city though.”

“Why is that?” The man seemed genuinely interested. Dean gave him his patented panty-dropping smile. Or boxer dropping in this guy's case.

“I get in way too much trouble. Too much food. Too much booze. Too many warm bodies.” Dean swore the man’s interest increased after that last statement. And hey, he was good for a roll in the hay with the guy. Shit, it was a cruise. Not fucking someone was probably punishable by walking the plank.

“Perhaps I can interest you in a drink. I have a bottle of Irish Whiskey in my room.”

Dean quirked an eyebrow. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Do you want to be seduced?”

“I think I can get on board with that. Get on board…get it? I made a pun.”

“It’s a good thing you’re pretty,” the guy said dryly and began walking away. Dean hurried to fall into step beside him.  
“I didn’t get your name,” Dean piped up after a few minutes of walking down a long hallway.

“Castiel.” And wasn’t that a freakin’ mouthful?

“I’m Dean,” Dean volunteered.

“It suits you,” came the reply. They stopped outside a room on the Baja Deck, and Castiel inserted his key card. The door swung open, and Dean entered first. This cabin must have cost the big bucks. There was a freakin’ balcony. Guess a chef in NOLA made some decent cash. Dean was a contest winner, so he got the cheap room.

The guy moved over to the dresser where a couple of bottles of booze rested. He picked up the ice bucket and Dean plucked it out of his hand. “I’ll go get some ice.” When the cabin door shut behind him, he leaned on it. Jesus, what was he doing? Sure the man was fine. Okay, he was better than fine, but still… Dean wasn’t desperate. Who was he kidding? He was practically salivating to get laid. But this whole shipboard romance thing… not that fucking had anything to do with romance... Sighing, he headed down the hallway toward the closest bar.

The bar was wall-to-wall with half naked men. Dean admired the scenery as the bartender filled the bucket. Maybe he should write about a romance aboard a gay cruise. By the time he got back to Castiel’s room, he’d already plotted out a rough outline. So what if the main character looked like the guy he was getting ready to have sex with?

He knocked and the door was opened immediately. “I thought you’d absconded with my ice bucket.”

“No, man, I wouldn’t steal it. I got one of my own in my room.” Dean ignored the fact Castiel thought he’d take his bucket and run. Dean set it on the dresser and took the initiative to fix their drinks. He took the plastic wrap off the two cups and filled them with ice. Then he poured a healthy shot into each one. When he handed one to Castiel, his eyes landed on the condoms and bottle of lube on the nightstand. Well, shit, that just made things real.

  
Castiel paced the stateroom. How long did it take to get ice? Perhaps he – Dean – had second thoughts. When the knock sounded, Castiel felt a wave of relief. Strange. Sure, he'd been dying to get his hands on Dean from the moment he'd laid eyes on him, but on a ship like this, hook-ups were a dime a dozen. Why did this feel like it was… more? Castiel shook those thoughts right out of his head before he could examine them any further. His busy life didn't make room for such things. But as he opened the door to let Dean in, the chef was acutely aware of one thing… He recognized a craving when he felt one. 

He watched Dean fix their drinks and mentally went over their brief conversations. Dean was quick witted and kind of adorable. When he turned to hand a glass to Castiel, Castiel tracked his gaze and knew when they lit on the supplies he'd set out 'just in case'. Just for a split second, Dean looked unsure.

"So, chef, huh? I love to cook, but don't do any of that fancy stuff. Burgers, pancakes, eggs and I can grill a mean steak. Maybe next time I'm in New Orleans, I can stop by and check it out. The Delta, right? I'll put that on my list of stuff to do." The entire time he was talking, Dean was pacing the small cabin, actively avoiding Castiel's personal space. "This is a really nice room. My room is about half this size and...yeah, I don't have a balcony. I'm in the bowels of this monstrosity." He shot the expensive, eighteen-year-old, single-malt McCallan back like it was cheap rot-gut and Castiel inwardly groaned. He stepped forward and put his finger over Dean's mouth, just as the man was taking in a breath to continue his nervous rambling.

"We don't have to do this." Dean blinked at him and visibly swallowed. Castiel removed his finger and took Dean's empty glass from his lax hand. He turned around and set it on the dresser. When he faced Dean again, he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He met Castiel's eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm just a bit nervous. Getting laid is usually a means to an end, not an end to a means...or whatever the opposite of that term is." The corners of Castiel's mouth twitched. Damn, he really was cute. Handsome as fuck, but devilishly cute.

"I think I understand. This does seem calculated in some way, doesn't it? Perhaps we should just chalk this up to..."

"No, I got this," Dean stood and flashed a cheeky grin. He stepped up to Castiel and moved his hands as if to touch him but suddenly got confused as to what to do with his hands. As entertaining as it was to see this hot-as-fuck creature so flustered, Castiel took pity on him and grasped them, placing one hand on his hip and lacing his fingers in the other. He slowly leaned in and kissed Dean. It was just a soft brush of their lips, but it was enough to get things going. Dean's hands needed no help after that. Despite his nervous exterior, Dean suddenly seemed to be lit from within, like a raging inferno that was barely contained. Castiel had to hold himself back from gasping in shock from the sudden, and thoroughly unexpected, intensity.

Dean managed to get Castiel's shirt unbuttoned and off without coming up for air. It didn't take long before both were nude and sprawled out on Castiel's bed. They had ceased using words and instead  began communicating with their bodies; the only sounds from them were the soft moans that escaped without intent. It was a primal, lustful language that both men seemed to naturally understand as their movements became more purposeful. Castiel lightly touched Dean's inner thigh, and Dean parted his legs in invitation. Castiel was a giver and a taker when it came to sex. Nothing beat driving his cock into a slick, hot ass unless it was someone pushing a hard cock into his hole. Although he couldn't help imagining Dean’s rock-hard cock driving into him without restraint, Castiel found himself losing his fucking mind over the idea of claiming Dean’s ass for himself first. All the pent-up desire he'd held back for the last year burst free as his mouth covered Dean's with Dean let him take from him, his palms moving up and down Castiel's back. 

Biting back a growl of lust, Castiel took Dean's wrists and pushed them over his head, pinning them to the mattress. Dean looked right into his eyes and winked. Strong thighs wrapped around Castiel's lean hips and thrust upwards. The velvety skin of Dean's cock brushed against Castiel's provocatively and Castiel lifted a dominant eyebrow at the challenge.

"Slow down, Tiger." Castiel rolled his hips forward, giving Dean the friction he obviously wanted. "You acted like an angel, but I can see now, you are really a demon. A beautiful, hot as fuck, demon."

"You gonna talk all night," Dean whispered, his earlier cockiness rearing its head. Keeping one hand on Dean's wrists, Castiel reached for the bottle of Astroglide. He managed to open it using his thumb and forefinger. "Talented fingers," Dean said with a smirk. "Do they teach you that in culinary school?"

"Maybe I should fill your smart mouth with something...hard," Castiel rose on his knees and quickly spun around so his thighs were on each side of Dean's head. He could feel warm breath teasing his balls. Before he could get into position to put his own lips to use, Dean was licking up Castiel's shaft. He moaned and lowered his face.

Dean's cock was long and thick, the head slick with his arousal. Castiel dipped his tongue into the slit, tasting him for the first time. Dean bucked under him. In retaliation, Dean wrapped his hand around Castiel and pulled him into his mouth. The hot, wet heat made Castiel groan and he had to fight the urge to thrust into Dean's throat. _Combine egg yolks with cold water. Whisk until light and frothy._ Castiel's breathing evened out. Reciting the recipe for hollandaise sauce kept him from getting too hot too fast. He continued letting his tongue explore Dean's dick, while he squeezed some of the lube onto his fingers. Using his palms, he spread Dean wide and got his first glimpse of Dean's tight, pink hole.

Castiel pressed a finger against the tight muscle and God help him, Dean moaned around his cock, sending vibrations to his very core. He swallowed and took a deep breath. _Add lemon juice. Place bowl over a pot of simmering water. Whisk vigorously._ Keeping his mouth busy sucking and licking Dean's balls, Cas slowly and carefully opened Dean. The sight of his fingers moving in and out of Dean's wet entrance combined with Dean's mouth working his cock was driving Castiel crazy with lust. He shifted his hips and heard a soft growl when he pulled away from Dean.

  


  
Dean's senses were overloaded. Castiel was slowly fucking his mouth, just a gentle roll of his hips. Dean could have taken it harder and faster, but he knew the other man wanted to fuck him. He was definitely on board with having Castiel's...damn what a mouthful... Dean stifled a giggle. Cas was easier to say and remember. Yeah, so he wanted Castiel to take him.

  
He inhaled the scent of the man. Fuck, he'd missed this. The intense pleasure of giving a guy head. He hadn't expected the sixty-nine action, but he wasn't complaining. Cas never took him into his mouth, he just teased at the slit with his tongue. When he started licking his balls, Dean couldn't help but relax his throat, even more, taking Cas' cock deeper.

  
At the press of the first slick finger, Dean moaned and he felt Cas trembling. By the time Cas had the third one in, they were both shaking with need. He could do this all night long.

  
When Cas rolled off him, Dean growled in frustration. As much as he wanted Cas' cock in his ass, he didn't want to stop sucking him off. He wanted that heady sense of power that came with bringing a man to the brink of orgasm and tasting him as he went over the edge.

  
Cas positioned himself between Dean's thighs and Dean watched as Cas steadied himself before ripping open the condom packet and rolling it down his length. While not as long as Dean's, Cas' cock was thicker and Dean knew he'd feel it tomorrow. Cas looked up at him before pressing inside. Dean's eyes closed and his head fell back as the head pushed inside. It burned and Dean's breathing quickened as he worked through the initial pain of being breached. "Are you okay?" The whispered words sounded loud in the room. Dean realized they hadn't spoken in a long while.

  
"I'm good." Cas nodded and slowly eased his hips forward, inch by slow inch, he filled Dean. Cas was taking quick, deep breaths and when his body was flush against Dean's, Dean watched his eyes close and his head lull backward. With his lips parted like that, he looked fuckin' amazing and Dean cataloged it for his book. He'd have to search hard for the words to describe just how hot the man looked. Dean stared, memorizing every nuance of his expression and body language. Damn, he was beautiful.

  
Pursing his lips in an exaggerated exhale, Cas opened his eyes and pulled out until just the head was inside. Dean felt the tug against his rim and then Cas pushed inside again. It was slow torture. In and out, slow and steady. Dean's legs, spread and bent back to his chest began to cramp a bit and he stretched them out, wrapping around Cas' lean waist. The man had an athlete's body, muscular without being bulky.

  
A smile touched Cas' lips and he ran his hands up and down Dean's thighs a couple of times before gripping Dean's hips with his long fingers. He started moving faster, the thrusts deeper and Dean's back arched as the head of Cas' cock hit his prostate. "Fuck," Dean mouthed the word, since his ability to speak aloud seemed to have been lost. He reached down and began stroking himself. Cas' eyes drifted down and he seemed mesmerized by Dean's actions. His skin was flushed and beads of sweat dotted his forehead and upper lip.

  
Short, loud huffs of breath filled the room as they both drew closer to their release. Dean felt the punch of each thrust against his prostate and the coil of heat in his belly. "Gonna come..."

  
"Yes," Cas hissed. The thrusts got faster and then lost their rhythm. Dean cried out as the wave hit him and pushed him over into the abyss. Cum splashed onto his stomach and chest. His muscles tensed and then released as he sank down into the mattress. He watched Cas chasing his own release through hooded eyes. Cas' fingers dug into his flesh and Dean relished it, knowing he'd have bruises. "Fuck...so fucking good..." The feral sound that escaped Cas' mouth was something Dean would remember forever. He could feel the throb of Cas' cock as he spilled his load inside of him.

  
Above him, Cas was frozen save for the heavy rise and fall of his chest as he fought to breathe. At that moment, Dean wished he was a painter instead of a writer. He wanted to capture this moment on canvas. He shut his eyes. What was wrong with him? It was just a good fuck between two consenting adults, nothing more.

  
Cas gripped the base of his cock, holding the condom in place, as he pulled out. With the grace of a born athlete, he rolled off the bed and walked to the bathroom. Dean watched his tight ass with something akin to desire. The door shut and Dean heard the flush of the toilet. A moment later, it opened again and Cas came out, unabashed in his nudity. He reached down into the mini-fridge and pulled out two bottles of water. Handing one to Dean, he sat on the edge of the bed. Dean twisted off the cap and drank half of it down. "Thanks," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

  
"You are very welcome." And didn't he sound all polite and proper? Dean smirked. He hadn't sounded that way when he was fucking Dean's ass.

  
Now, came the tricky part. Leaving without any hard feelings. Dean sat up and stretched out his arms before standing up. He found his boxer briefs and pulled them up, snapping the waistband in place. Cas was watching him, an intense expression on his face. Dean finished dressing quickly and then turned to face Cas. The man hadn't moved and his eyes were fixed on Dean. "Guess I'll see you around."

  
"Goodbye, Dean." Dean nodded and threw up a hand in an awkward wave before letting himself out of the door. As he made his way back to his cabin, he couldn't get the guy out of his mind. If he'd met him in a bar, Dean would have been happy to sit and get to know him.

  
He let himself into his room and sat down at his computer. The words came easy. When he finally stretched and realized he was thirsty, he noticed it was nine o'clock. He'd typed all night long. He saved his work, stripped out of his clothes, and then crawled onto his bed. It wasn't his memory foam, but it would do. As he was drifting off, he could smell the scent of sex and Cas' aftershave mingling on his skin.


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel sat, water bottle clutched between his palms, as the door shut behind Dean. He hated entanglements. He didn't have time for relationships. So, why did he want Dean to stay? There was something about the man and he couldn't put his finger on it. Castiel didn't have a type, but he tended to gravitate towards people who understood his long hours, mainly servers, chefs, or bartenders.

  
As he showered, he decided to put Dean out of his head. It wasn't like they would hook up again. There were too many other men on this floating city to play with.

  
He was pulling up the sheet and settling onto his pillow when he heard Balthazar's door open and shut. He picked up two voices...or was it three? He shook his head and rolled over onto his stomach. His partner was such a slut.

  
Castiel awoke to the glare from the late morning sun streaming into the doors to the balcony. He groaned and pulled the pillow over his head. Castiel hated mornings. That's one of the reasons he didn't do a breakfast service at The Delta. He was just about to doze back off when the moans from next door started again. He got up and walked to the adjoining door and banged it twice with his fist. "Keep it down, Assbutt." He heard Balthazar's laughter.

  
Since he was up, Castiel dressed in a pair of swim trunks, grabbed his sunscreen and the latest gay romance by his favorite author, D.R. Winchester. It came out last year, but Castiel hadn't had much of a chance to get caught up on his reading lately.

  
The ship had three pools, but Castiel chose the one on the Lido deck at the stern. Most people were eating lunch, so he found a chaise right away. He settled back and looked around as he rubbed suntan oil on his arms, chest, and legs.

  
"And aren't you the sexy one." Castiel shaded his hand against the glare and saw a short guy in an atrocious Hawaiian print Speedo. He sat down on the chaise next to Cas' and lifted his sunglasses. Castiel kept his aviators on. "Come here often?"

  
"As pick up lines go, yours are a bit old," Castiel replied dryly.

  
"What I lack in pick up lines, I gain in the sack." Castiel watched the man's eyes drift down his chest and stop at the bulge in his white trunks. Castiel, here on a mission to get laid, let his own gaze check out the other man. He was slim, but nicely built. His package, nicely displayed in the loud bikini, was impressive.

  
"Do you always come on so strong?" Castiel leaned back and crossed his ankles.

  
"We're on a cruise ship filled to capacity with men just ripe for the picking. Situations like this make me feel hedonistic." He reached out and trailed a finger up Castiel's thigh. "Nice thighs. I could put those to good use."

  
Castile couldn't help but laugh. "There isn't a shy bone in your body, is there?"

  
"Shy? Not in this lifetime. I'm Gabe, by the way. Purveyor of adult entertainment films." Castiel's eyebrow rose in question.

  
"You do fuck films?"

  
"I produce and direct. I'm not an actor," Gabe was quick to add. "I could make you a star....hmmm...."

  
"Castiel. And I have a job that I love. Thanks, anyway."

  
"What a shame. You really are beautiful." Now, his hand moved up Castiel's thigh to rest at the hem of his suit. Any other time, Castiel would have found a quiet place and had a bit of fun, but something was holding him back.

  
"I think I'm going for a swim." He stood up quickly and Gabe's hand dropped away.

  
"That's cool. Maybe I can buy you a drink later," Gabe said, getting to his feet as well.

  
"I'll be around," Castiel said truthfully. Who knew? Maybe he'd take Gabe up on his offer later. He needed to get out of this funk. He walked to the edge of the pool and dove in. He swam under water for a short time and surfaced. The water was cool and refreshing. He stood near the steps and watched the nearly naked men having fun around him. The flesh on display didn't even stir his cock.

  
As he was getting out of the pool, a flash of bright pink caught his eye and he glanced up. It was Dean. He didn't look comfortable in the fuschia trunks. They came to mid-thigh and were a lot more modest than the ball-hugging suit he had on. Hands still on the edge of the pool, Castiel couldn't help but watch.

  
Dean found a chair under an umbrellaed table and sat down. He had a laptop with him and set it on the glass top. He opened it, not once looking around, but others sure noticed him. Something strange was happening in his belly. His eyes narrowed as he saw the looks of lust from several men. He hefted himself out of the water just as Dean looked up and saw him. Cas saw his expression of shock and then it became guarded. Lifting his chin and daring anyone to get in his way, he strode over to Dean's table. "Hello, Dean."

  
He noticed how Dean shut his laptop before answering. "Heya, Cas." Castiel noticed how Dean's eyes traveled south and Castiel realized that white trunks were probably a bad idea. Wet, they showed everything. He could see the outline of his cock and the dark thatch of hair through the material. He wanted to put his hands over himself, but he refrained. "Is the water nice?"

  
"Yes, very cool and refreshing."

  
"Not too cold?" Dean asked with an ill-disguised smirk. Castiel cocked his head to the side and then got the joke.

  
"Not enough to cause shrinkage," he deadpanned. Dean threw back his head, laughing loudly. Castiel's breath caught in his throat. He swallowed hard. He couldn't take his eyes off the man. When Dean got ahold of himself, Castiel was finally able to use his words. He pointed to Dean's laptop. "Surely, you aren't working?" What did Dean do? He remembered telling Dean he was a chef, but Dean didn't reciprocate.

  
Dean smile faltered. "No, just checking email and stuff."

  
"You must have a pretty important job to worry about email on your vacation." Castiel knew he was blatantly hinting, but couldn't help himself. He needed to know more about this man.

  
Dean's eyes turned away. "Not really. My sister-in-law is pregnant, so I like to keep in touch."

  


  
The banging on the door and the voice yelling "Housekeeping!" woke Dean from his dream about that new guy on NCIS. He groggily sat up and yelled for them to wait a minute. He pulled a pair of sweatpants from his suitcase and tugged them up his legs. A t-shirt followed and then he opened the door. The young, African-American man smiled at Dean. "Sorry to disturb you, Sir. Would you like me to come back later?"

  
"No, that's okay. I need to grab some food anyway." Dean rummaged through his suitcase for a pair of shorts. Since the poor guy was already making up his bed, he hastily snatched up something. Frowning, he stared at the pair of hot pink shorts in his hand. Fuck. The yellow post-it note fell to the floor. He picked it up and read.

  
_**I hijacked your suitcase. You cannot wear jeans and plaid on a cruise, Dean. Who wants to have sex with someone who covers up their smoking hot body. One pair of shorts? Really, Hon? Know that I love you and want you to get laid.** _

  
_**Mari** _

  
"Fuck."

  
"Excuse me," the housekeeper looked at him quizzically, holding one of the pillows in his hands.

  
"Sorry, nothing." Dean stepped into the three by three space that the cruise line called a bathroom and pulled on the shorts. "At least, if I fall overboard, someone will see these and be able to find my body," he muttered to himself. He opened the door. The guy was just finishing making the bed.

  
He packed up his laptop. Maybe he could get some more writing done while he ate. "Hey, what's your name?" The housekeeper looked up and gave Dean a warm smile.

  
"Ennis."

  
"Will you always be the one who does my room?"

  
"Yes, Sir. We are all assigned certain decks and cabins."

  
"Cool. Thanks, Ennis." Dean left the room and strode down the hall. He stepped into one of the smaller dining rooms and ordered a sandwich. He was about to open his laptop when a group of men sat at his table. They were all from the Miami area, beautiful Cuban men, but loud. Dean ate and quietly excused himself. As he was walking down the corridor, he could see the pool area. It looked like a place he could work. There were several empty tables with umbrellas. Sam and Mari told him he needed to get a bit of sun. Mari may have even used the term fish-belly white to describe his skin tone. He peeled off his t-shirt and pushed open the glass door.

  
He went straight to an empty table and sat down. Ignoring the laughter and splashes from the pool, he opened the file he'd started last night. He placed his hands on the keyboard, but suddenly it felt like someone was watching him. He looked up and his eyes locked with Cas'. His mouth went dry as the other man pushed himself out of the pool, his forearms bunching as they took his weight. He strode towards Dean and Dean's eyes were pulled down to the very tight, very white trunks he was wearing. The wet material left nothing to the imagination. "Hello, Dean." The gravelly voice was just like he remembered, sexy as fuck.

  
Dean remembered his laptop was open to his newest novel and he shut it before answering. "Heya, Cas." Sitting, Dean's eyes were almost at crotch level and there was Cas' cock in all its glory. He could see the dark curls and remembered having his nose buried in them. "Is the water nice?"

  
Cas' eyes glanced down like he knew Dean was staring at his junk. He was cool about it though. "Yes, very cool and refreshing."

  
Dean couldn't resist teasing him."Not too cold?" It couldn't have been too cold, because Cas' cock was still impressive even soft and tucked against his body by the thin fabric.

  
Cas' response took Dean by surprise. "Not enough to cause shrinkage." He burst out laughing. The man's face was stoic, the voice was so freakin' serious, but the words...damn, Dean couldn't control himself and it took a few seconds for him to stop. He actually had to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye. The humor died in his throat when Cas pointed to his laptop and asked if he was working. Dean lied and Cas seemed to believe him when he used Mari as an alibi.

  
Just as an awkward silence settled between them, a man in a leopard print thong, followed by two younger men walked up to the table. The older guy patted Cas on the ass and then slipped an arm around his waist. In a slight French accent, he said, "Darling, I hope my morning tussle with the boys didn't bother you too much."

  
Shocked at the anger he felt that Cas was being touched by someone else, Dean bit down on his tongue to keep from saying something stupid.

  
Cas ignored the comment and just rolled his eyes. "Dean, this old queen is my business partner, Balthazar Roche." The older man splayed his hand across his well-toned chest in mock horror.

  
"Castiel, please, not in front of the children," he said, nodding towards the two other men. Dean thought they couldn't have been over twenty-one. They both laughed and one put a possessive hand on the man's bare ass.

  
"And this is Dean..." Dean knew Cas wanted him to fill in the blank with his last name, but he couldn't. Instead, he stood and held out his hand.

  
"Nice to meet you. Balthazar is an unusual name."

  
"You think Castiel is normal?" Roche laughed at his own humor.

  
"Well..." Dean was at a loss and felt out of his element.

  
Before he could form another thought, Roche eyed him up and down suggestively. "Well, Castiel, you seemed to have latched onto a beautiful specimen." Dean couldn't read Cas' expression, but he didn't look happy. Roche seemed to pick up on it and his arm dropped from where it still rested on Cas' waist. "We have an appointment with the masseuse, so I will leave you two lovebirds." And just like that, he was prancing across the deck, his two boys hurrying to keep up. Dean realized the man hadn't even introduced them. He wondered if Roche even knew their names.

  
"I will apologize for Zar. He's a bit much to take in." The poor dude looked like he was embarrassed.

  
"Don't sweat it. We all have friends and family that embarrass the shit out of us sometimes." Dean stretched out his legs and nibbled on his lips. "So, you and 'Zar' are just business partners?" Shit. Shit. Shit. Why had he asked that?

  
There was a flash of white teeth as Cas smiled. "I'm not nearly crazy enough to get involved with him on a more personal level. Besides, I think I'm too old for him." They shared in laughter at Roche's expense.

  
The laughter died and once again, Dean's mouth overrode his brain. "If you don't have plans for dinner, maybe we could..." He stopped and tried to regroup, but before he could, Cas was nodding.

  
"I can meet you at the steakhouse on the Spa Deck at...say...six?"

  
"Sure." Dean stood and gathered his laptop. "Guess I'll see you then." He meant to walk off, but found his eyes drawn to Cas'. A sentence from his novel came to him. _Jensen stared into the Russian's blue eyes and felt his cock thicken. He wanted him._  
Dean felt his skin get hot and it wasn't due to the sun beating down on him. "See you then." He turned and walked away, conscious of the man's eyes on him as he made his way across the deck.


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel was mortified by Balthazar's behavior, but Dean didn't seem too put out by his friend's antics. In fact, he'd asked Castiel to dinner. Dinner. Just dinner, not a date. Castiel did not date.

Watching Dean walk away was doing crazy things to his libido. The fuchsia shorts hugged his ass and his legs, slightly bowed, were lean and muscular. His mind went back to the night before. He could almost imagine his cock sliding into Dean. Before he could embarrass himself, he snatched up a towel and wrapped it around his waist. Damp, white trunks were a beacon when you had a half hard dick.

He went back to the chaise lounge and sat down to reapply his sunscreen. He was nicely tanned because he usually did his afternoon runs shirtless, but he didn't want to burn under the hot, Gulf sunshine. When he finished, he wiped his hands on his towel and picked up his book. He was four chapters in and Jared and Richard were about to have sex for the first time. He leaned back, adjusted his sunglasses and went to the bookmarked page.

 

_Richard stood in the shower, the hot water sluicing off his back. Head thrown back to get his hair wet, he didn't hear Jared open the door. Large hands gripped the side of his face, startling him. Then Jared's lips crashed against his. The kiss was filled with all the frustration both men had been feeling over the last weeks. Richard let his hands rest on Jared's hips and let himself go. "Want you," Jared murmured against his mouth._

 

"Cassie, I'm beginning to wonder about your sense of adventure." Castiel looked up at Balthazar.

 

"Why is that?" Balthazar made a dramatic show of sitting on the chaise next to Castiel's. He picked up Castiel's sunscreen and helped himself.

 

"There are literally hundreds of horny men on this ship and you are sitting here, alone and reading. I thought you came to get laid. And speaking of getting laid, who was that hot piece of prime beef you were talking to earlier?"

 

"I came on this cruise to relax." Castiel left out the part about craving no-strings sex just out of general principle. "And the man I was talking to earlier was someone I met last night. He's a nice guy." Enough said. Castiel never felt the need to brag about his sexual conquests, but he wasn't usually afraid to tell Balthazar about them either. For some reason, he wanted to keep his encounter with Dean to himself.

 

"Right. And I came to get my nails done," Balthazar said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "What gives?"

 

"Maybe I'm too old for meaningless hookups?" Balthazar feigned shock and laid his hand on Castiel's forehead.

 

"Have you developed a tropical disease? You seem to be delirious." Castiel pushed his hand away and rolled his eyes. "Besides, you are ten years younger than me, and I'm still having a ball...no pun intended. Oh, who am I trying to kid, that pun was completely intended."

 

"Don't you have a twenty-something twink to bang?" Castiel sighed and brought his book back up to read, hoping if he ignored his friend, he'd go away.

 

Balthazar's facade fell away. The flamboyant queen was gone, and his friend sat next to him. "Do you want to have dinner together tonight? No other boys. I promise."

 

Castiel smiled and shook his head. "I'm fine. And you are free to dance the night away with your fan club..." Castiel nodded towards a small cluster of men apparently waiting for Balthazar to join them. "...I have made plans for the evening."

 

His friend lifted an eyebrow. "Do tell."

 

"Just dinner with...a friend." Strangely enough, Castiel knew he wasn't lying. He could easily spend time talking to Dean without sex. The sex was just an added bonus.

 

"Is this 'friend' the same one you were talking to? You know, the ridiculously hot one?"

 

Smiling softly, Castiel went back to reading. He heard Balthazar chuckling as he got up and wandered over to his entourage. He wasn't approached again, and it didn't bother him. Maybe he was giving off a vibe that said he wasn't interested right now. Rolling onto his stomach, he adjusted his book and got lost in the story.

 

He returned to his cabin at five to take a shower and get ready for his night. The brochure said the steakhouse's dress code was 'cruise casual' - whatever the hell that meant. He settled on a pair of fitted jeans, a pink button-down, and a black blazer. When he got out of the shower, he dressed and stared at his reflection. His hair was a disaster, and the blowdryer attached to the wall didn't work. He toweled it dry and shrugged. Before he left, he slapped on some of his Hugo Boss cologne. It wasn't a date, but he always liked the way it smelled. Who knows? Maybe it would get him laid again. He could go for another night with Dean.

 

Whistling the theme song for _The Greatest American Hero_ , he pulled his door shut and strolled down the hall to the elevators. He emerged next to the spa area. The scent of various types of aromatherapy played with his sense of smell. He might have to schedule a massage. He made his way around the huge water slide, the outdoor theater, and the mini-golf course. He stood at the rail looking down the elegant staircase. He was a few minutes early.

 

 

As soon as Dean got back to his room, he wrote another thousand words. This story was really coming together. Jensen was a Texan who owned a brewery. Dimitri was a Russian diplomat, born in Moscow, but raised in Boston. They were worlds apart, but Dean brought them together, and the romance between the two men was building. He was sure he would have them in bed together before the end of the next chapter.

 

He'd set his alarm to go off to give him enough time to take a nap before dinner. When he awoke to the sound of _Back in Black_ , he stayed in bed staring at the ceiling. Was this thing with Cas a date? He really didn't plan on having an on-board fling. It wasn't for him. Maybe he wouldn't go. He could stay in his room and write like he'd planned from the start. Cas didn't know where his room was, so it wasn't like he would come searching for him. Not that someone like Cas would do that. He could have his choice of men.

 

He watched the numbers on his phone move through the minutes. No, he didn't need to meet Cas. He could work on his story instead. Dimitri, with his deep, sexy voice was getting ready to seduce Jensen. Dimitri... With his bluer-than-blue eyes. With his muscular thighs wrapping around him... no, Jensen. Fuck. His cock was getting hard, and he pressed down on it. With a frustrated growl, he got up and stepped into the tiny bathroom. He scrubbed his hands over his face and huffed. "Fuck it."

 

After his shower, he stared at the clothing Ennis had hung in the small closet. Mari had really raided his suitcase. He remembered packing a handful of t-shirts. Now, he was staring at a polo shirt he didn't recognize, two dress shirts, a pair of slacks, and the best of his t-shirts. There was even a tropical print shirt that Dean swore he would never be caught dead in. He closed the door and took the two steps that got him to the dresser. He picked up the brochure that described the dining experiences on the ship. He skimmed down until he got to the steakhouse, which listed 'cruise casual’ for the dress code. What the fuck was that? He squinted at the picture. Damned if he was getting reading glasses. He wasn't even forty yet.

 

The picture showed men in blazers and ties. The women wore dresses. "Well, crap." He hadn't seen a blazer in the closet. His suitcase stood empty by the dresser, and he began opening drawers. In the second one, he found a nicely rolled tie and belt. Mari thought of everything.

 

He was already five minutes late when he stepped out of the cabin, awkwardly pulling on his tie. He couldn't remember the last time he wore one. Maybe for a meeting with his publisher in New York a couple of years back. He sped up his stride to get to the bank of elevators.

 

Glancing at his watch, he winced. He was now ten minutes late. He exited the elevator and jogged across the deck. He grinned at the mini-golf course. He'd have to check that out. He got to a grand staircase and before taking them, he looked up. Cas was standing there. He was facing away from Dean, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. He was shaking his head at the maitre'd. Shit. "Cas," Dean yelled up to the two men.

 

Cas turned around and for a second, Dean saw vulnerability in his expression. Then it was like a mask went up. Dean took the stairs two at a time and was panting when he got to the top. Note to self: when you get back home, take Sam up on his offer to add him to the family gym membership.

 

"Sorry I'm late." He almost came up with a lame excuse, but stopped himself. He left it at that.

 

The maitre'd smiled and nodded to him. "I'll just show you to your seats." Cas, silent, followed the man and Dean tagged along behind. The dining room wasn't too crowded. There were a few couples and foursomes sitting around. They were led to a table near the windows. Dean took his menu and watched as Cas took his.

 

Dean waited until the man left them before speaking again. "I'm really sorry I'm late," he repeated.

 

"No problem. I didn't think you were coming." Dean watched as Cas reacted to his own words, seeming surprised he had said them. That gave Dean a lot to think about. The look he'd seen on Cas’ face from the bottom of the stairs made sense. Someone had hurt the man. Who would have been stupid enough to leave Cas?

 

Surprising himself, Dean played the honesty card. "I almost didn't." He watched the narrowing of Cas' eyes, so he quickly finished. "Not because I didn't want to spend time with you, but because I didn't take this trip to get laid or hook up with anyone. My brother signed me up for some stupid contest, and winning this cruise was the prize." He waved his hand around the room. "This isn't me. My plans were just to stay in my room and wri—work."

 

Cas crossed his arms and leaned on the table, his posture relaxing for the first time since their evening started. "I came on this cruise to get laid." Dean looked away, feeling more hurt than he would ever admit.

 

"That's cool," Dean responded, his voice flat.

 

"Yeah, well, you are my one and only conquest." At Dean's sharp look, Cas smiled. "And I like it that way." Dean visibly let out a deep breath."Dean, I don't do relationships, but I like spending time with you. Maybe we could hang out for the duration of the cruise. No strings. And if one of us gets restless or wants to back off, no hard feelings."

 

"Deal," Dean said, going against everything he'd thought about since finding out he won this damn cruise. He didn't want a shipboard romance. It was stupid to get involved with someone you would never see again.

 

The server came over and asked for their drink orders. Dean ordered a beer and Cas ordered a merlot. "Tell me about your restaurant," Dean said, hoping to lighten the conversation.

 

"The Delta serves great steaks, pasta, and seafood. I try to use classic recipes and give them a Southern flair."

 

"When did you realize you wanted to be a chef?"

 

"I began cooking when I was still in my teens. My parents were both doctors and worked long hours, so I had to fend for myself. After high school, I went to college and got into the pre-med program at Boston University." He stopped when the server came back with their drinks. He took a sip of his wine and waited as the young man recited the specials. Dean ordered the ribeye, medium rare, and he listened to Cas ask the guy several questions about the different entrees. "I'll go with the surf and turf. I'll have the steak rare. I'll have the baked potato, and I'll start with the French onion soup."

 

Once they were alone again, Cas played with the stem of his wine glass. "Pre-med? Your choice or your parents?" Dean knew from experience what overbearing parents could be like.

 

Cas snorted. "The parents. A year in, and I changed my major to business. I finished my degree and went right into culinary school."

 

"The folks weren't too happy, huh?"

 

"Good guess. They cut off my funds and said they were writing me out of the will. I think that had to do more with my sexual orientation than the change of my career path."

 

"Been there, done that," Dean offered. "How did you get from culinary school to opening The Delta?"

 

Taking another sip of wine, Cas focused on touching his silverware. "A long, boring road. What about you, Dean? What do you do?" Shit. This was the part he always hated. Whenever he said he was a published author, people wanted details about his genre. When he said erotica and gay romance, he either got disgusted looks or lurid curiosity.

 

"I write." Cas seemed to be waiting for him to continue. Instead, Dean gulped his beer.

 

"You're an author?"

 

"Yeah." Dean could feel his face get hot and knew he was blushing. Cas chuckled at his short answer.

 

"What? You write Harlequin romances for lonely housewives?"

 

"What the fuck do you know about Harlequin?" Dean's voice was surly, and he couldn't help his indignation.

 

Holding up his hands in a placating manner, Cas's expression sobered. "I'm sorry. I'll bet you would be great at writing romance."

 

"My sister-in-law writes romance," Dean fudged by changing the subject. He didn't want to lie, but he didn't think coming out as D.R. Winchester on a gay cruise would be a good way to relax. If it got out, he'd be swamped with people wanting autographs. His name was well known in the gay community. "She's good. I met her before my brother did. She came to see me, and I introduced her to Sam. They hit it off, and now they’re expecting their first kid. Yeah, guess I told you that already, huh?"

 

"Are you excited about becoming an uncle?" Good, he'd gotten Cas off the career discussion.

 

"Hell, yeah. I love kids. I'm going to spoil this one rotten."

 

 

Castiel had been brutally honest with Dean about not wanting a relationship, and Dean seemed okay with his proposal of a shipboard affair. He took a few minutes to get out of the headspace he'd put himself in when Dean was late, but Dean started the conversation about the restaurant, which led to Dean talking about his family and future niece or nephew. It wasn't until the service brought their meals that Castiel realized that Dean had steered him away from the subject of his own career. What could the man write that he was ashamed of?

 

Talk turned to politics and then tomorrow's shore excursion. The ship was due to dock in Progreso, a coastal town on the Yucatan Peninsula.

 

"They have the Mayan ruins tour and a sacred caverns snorkeling adventure as well as a beach resort," Castiel said when Dean stated he had no idea what he was planning for the next day. "Surely, you aren't going to stay on the ship all day?"

 

Dean shrugged. "I was thinking about it."

 

"Come with me. I really want to do the cavern snorkeling thing, and then we can sample some of the local cuisine." Castiel didn't know what made him ask Dean along on his shore trip. He'd made tentative plans to hang out with Balthazar and his pack of twinks. He knew it wasn't exactly okay to bail on his friend, but he couldn't help feeling a little proud that he had the attention of the hottest guy on the ship. He also knew Balthazar would understand. Hell, he'd probably top a cheer pyramid made of twinks to express his joy over Castiel finally letting loose.

 

"Not sure if you should be eating the local food. You know what they say about Montezuma's revenge." Dean's wide grin forced Castiel’s gaze to his mouth. God, those _lips_. His mind involuntarily flashed to the memory of Dean’s lips wrapped around his cock, and he had to use all his willpower to keep from getting an erection in the middle of dinner. He forced his mind to return to the conversation at hand, only to see Dean’s lips pressed to his beer… which only led to his mind conjuring the memory of kissing Dean. And kissing him had been _so_ good. After Fergus left him, Castiel had only been with a handful of men, and he hadn't kissed any of them. They had been stress relief at most, and you didn't just kiss someone who's a quick fuck. He wasn't sure why he'd allowed himself to do it with Dean. Fergus had done a number on him. If Castiel was being honest, Fergus was the real reason he didn't do relationships. He had loved the sarcastic wit, the wild sex, and the dark passion, but Fergus got tired of the long work hours. He needed... no, he _demanded_ Castiel's full attention. Cas had been planning on asking him to move in with him and be a silent partner in the restaurant. He closed The Delta down early and asked Fergus to meet him for a romantic dinner. Castiel had sat watching the food grow cold, the sauce harden, and the candles burn out. Fergus hadn't answered his phone that night. The next morning, Castiel had a text saying Fergus had moved back to Scotland. No reason was given. Castiel tried to reply, but the number had been disconnected. Even his office was locked up. That was four years ago, and he never looked back.

 

"Cas?" Castiel stared across the table and realized he'd zoned out. "You okay? You kind of left, man."

 

"I'm sorry. My mind wandered."

 

"Guess talking about diarrhea at the dinner table wasn't really..." Dean looked so forlorn that Castiel felt the need to assure him somehow.

 

"No... at the risk of sounding like a total deviant, I was fantasizing about your lips," Castiel said. It wasn't a total lie. When the man's face turned a delightful shade of pink, Castiel laughed. "I'm sorry. I've embarrassed you."

 

"Yeah, a bit," Dean mumbled, biting his lip in an endearing manner.

 

"Say you'll go with me tomorrow," Castiel pleaded, pulling out the big guns. He tilted his head and gave Dean the eye thing that Balthazar said could get him anything his heart desired.

 

"Stop." Dean's mouth twitched.

 

"Stop what?" Castiel said with as much innocence as he could muster.

 

"You know what? My brother does the whole puppy eyes thing, and it doesn't work with me." Castiel pooched out his lower lip, just a hair, not enough to be blatantly obvious.

 

"Please don't make me spend the day with Zar and his merry band of twinks."

 

"Fine, but I'm not eating anything weird," Dean huffed.

 

Castiel smirked. "Nothing weird. Got it." The server arrived and cleared their plates and asked about dessert.

 

"Do you have pie?"

 

"No, sir." The server proceeded to list their desserts, but Dean turned his nose up at each one. When he was done, Dean shook his head and told the man he didn't want anything. Eager to please, the server added, "I do believe they have pies at the buffet on the Lido Deck." Castiel had to smile at Dean's unbridled enthusiasm at the news.

 

"Can we have our bill, please? I believe we need to hit the Lido Deck," Castiel said to the server. Moments later, he handed Castiel the bill. As Castiel reached for his wallet, Dean cleared his throat.

 

"Can we split it?" Dean asked the server. Before the man could answer, Castiel pushed his credit card into his hands.

 

"You can get lunch tomorrow," Castiel countered. He still didn't know what Dean did for a living, and since he won the trip, Castiel felt he should get the rather pricey meal.

 

"Fine", Dean said with a slight scowl. He wasn't happy, but he gave Castiel the win.

 

After Castiel got his card back, the two men made their way down to the elevators. On the Lido Deck, they followed the directions to the buffet. The food here was included in the cruise. He watched in curious fascination as Dean got a dinner plate and filled it with three kinds of pie. They found a table outside on the deck and watched the sun set as Dean ate. And ate. When he was done, Castiel asked, "Did you get enough?"

 

"I can get more later. Isn't this thing open twenty-four hours?"

 

"I was teasing, Dean. Do you eat like this all the time? If so, you must work out a lot."

 

"Just pie. And burgers. And no, I don't work out. But after this cruise, I might have to start," he said, eyeing the buffet longingly. While Castiel very much appreciated every inch of Dean's delectable form, he resented the fact that such an amazing body just came naturally to Dean when Cas had to work so hard to keep his own. It just didn't seem fair.

 

They pushed back their chairs and stood, and Castiel put a hand on the small of Dean's back to guide him to the rail. It was an unspoken, but natural desire to watch the sunset together. The sun flashed with streaks of pinks and greens as it sank below the horizon. They watched quietly, both deep in their own thoughts. Castiel wanted to ask Dean back to his room. He wanted to feel the warmth of his skin. He needed to taste those lips again.

 

"Guess I should..."

 

"Would you like to..."

 

They laughed nervously. "You first," Castiel said, knowing he wasn't going to like what Dean was about to say. Before he could speak, music filtered from a door through which a crowd of men were disappearing.

 

"I think that's a bar," Dean offered.

 

"We could go have a drink." Castiel didn't know where this would lead, but he knew for certain he didn't want the night to end yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special shout out to G33KDiva. Not only does she edit my work, but she makes the best suggestions when I have brain farts. Between her and Angi, I'd sound like a blithering idiot.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean didn't want to go back to his room. Well, he did, sort of; mainly because he wanted to get more written. He suddenly felt like he needed to give Dimitri some sad backstory. Cas didn't talk about it, but he was definitely gun-shy about relationships. It didn't take a brain surgeon to figure that out.

He was trying to decide how to broach the subject of them going to Cas' room for another nightcap when he heard the music. It wasn't anything Dean would normally listen to, but he used it as an excuse. "I think that's a bar."

Cas leapt on Dean's observation, and they found themselves in the ship's dance club. Strobe lights flashed overhead making Dean want to turn around and make a swift exit. However, Cas was moving toward the bar. _Damn him and his ass in those jeans._ He followed along, and as they passed the edge of the dance floor, some dude with lots of hair – everywhere – slapped Cas on the ass. Dean drew up to his full six-feet-one-inch height and curled his hands into fists, throwing in a dominant glare for good measure. Mr. Silverback Gorilla saw him, and raised his hands in supplication, backing off quickly. Cas was looking at him with an amused expression. He wrapped his hand around the back of Dean's neck and pulled him in close. He talked directly into Dean's ear. "Thanks for being my knight in shining armor, but I am capable of taking care of myself." Cas’ warm breath against his skin was doing things to his stomach. Butterflies seem to be doing loops and barrel rolls.

"Don't tell me you liked him touching you?" Always cover up nerves with righteous indignation, that was Dean's motto.

Cas tilted his head, his hand still resting on the back of Dean's neck and yes, it was definitely doing things to him. Pleasurable things. He stared into Dean's eyes, his brows drawn together in a frown. "No, Dean, I did not like him touching me, but I could have taken care of it without acting like a Neanderthal."

Dean spat out, "Neanderthal?!" He jerked away from Cas. "Wow...just..." Dean turned and stormed away. Or at least he tried to, but the place was packed with half naked, writhing bodies and before he'd forced his way through and gained a couple of yards, he felt a hand grab into his waistband. The tips of the fingers rested against the crack of his ass, and he knew without a doubt who those fingers belonged to.

A part of him wanted to pull away and walk out… to never see Cas again. But the tingling of his skin where those fingers rested made him stop moving and take a few deep breaths, shoulders tense with the effort of control. Cas' body was close, his chest against Dean's back. He felt Cas' lips against his neck. A soft, calming kiss. Dean closed his eyes. He heard Cas say, "Dean, I didn't mean it." _Damn that sweet-talking motherfucker._ Cas' other hand was slowly interlocking with Dean's. "Dance with me."

"I don't dance," Dean insisted. Sam always said he looked like a frog in a blender. Cas didn't seem to care and after removing his hand from Dean's pants, he tugged his hand toward the pulsating dance floor. Cas faced him, and Dean let the steady beat of the music wash over him. He was sure he'd heard the song at one time or another. Some pop tart. Cas' body was moving and _damn_ he looked hot... Dean gave in and moved his hips.

**_Tonight_ **   
**_I'm a let you_ **   
**_Be the captain_ **   
**_Tonight_ **   
**_I'm a let you_ **   
**_Do your thing, yeah_ **   
**_Tonight_ **   
**_I'm a let you_ **   
**_Be a rider_ **   
**_Giddy up_ **   
**_Giddy up_ **   
**_Giddy up, babe_ **

**_Tonight_ **   
**_I'm a let it_ **   
**_Be fire_ **   
**_Tonight_ **   
**_I'm a let you_ **   
**_Take me higher_ **   
**_Tonight_ **   
**_Baby we can_ **   
**_Get it on_ **   
**_Yeah we can get it on_ **   
**_Yeah_ **

Cas' eyes looked predatory, and Dean was caught in the intensity of his gaze. His mouth was dry. His breaths were coming faster now. Cas reached for him, catching him by his stupid tie. Why had he worn the fuckin' thing? He let himself be tugged forward until they were inches apart. Dean, like most white men, didn't know what to do with his hands and arms while dancing to music like this. Instinct had him latch on to Cas' belt loops. "Damn you for making me want..." Dean didn't catch the rest of Cas' words. The place was just too loud. He looked at Cas questioningly, but Cas was looking at Dean's lips, and Dean knew Cas hadn't meant for him to hear them.

The song ended, but before Dean could suggest they get a drink... or leave... or fuck, another song started, just as loud and just as throbbing. Dean's pulse was racing. Cas' hips pressed into his and he felt Cas cock. The man was hard. There was a sheen of sweat on his face, and Dean watched a bead slide down his neck and into the parted vee of his shirt. He wanted to catch it... taste it... His lips parted on their own volition.

  
With a growl, Cas' mouth crashed into his, taking what little breath he'd had away. The deep bass line was no match for his heart rate. Dean moaned into the kiss and let his fingers claw to get Cas' shirt out of his pants. He needed to touch him. Cas was grinding against him and his own cock was aching in his painfully tight slacks. Cas' hands gripped his ass _hard_ and thrust forward, over and over. Dean let his palms splay over the sweaty skin of Cas' back. Dean's own senses came back online, and he realized just how hot it was on the dance floor. The hot lights, the press of bodies around them... he needed air _now_.

The feel of teeth on his throat made him gasp. He couldn't breathe. Eyes wide, he inhaled sharply and the smell of sweat, some kind of awesome aftershave, and something that was just _Cas_ caused his nostrils to flare. "Cas..." His hands were still on the cheeks of Dean's ass, and he suddenly realized they were dry humping in the middle of all these people. "Cas...you...gotta...stop..." A whine escaped his lips and he felt dizzy. Cas' head slowly rose until they were eye to eye, mere inches apart.

Dean was transfixed by the sharpness in Cas’ blue eyes. Holding his gaze as long as possible, Cas leaned into Dean's ear and growled, "I'm going to take you apart." The words were loud and clear over the music. Dean could only nod, stunned into what felt like… submission. He didn't remember the walk across the deck, he was more focused on Cas' hands on him. Any other time, it would be perfectly innocent; just fingertips resting at the small of his back. This time though, Dean felt like Cas' touch was setting him on fire.

They both faced forward in the elevator. Two older men, holding hands, dressed in shorts and tank tops entered before they did. The four remained silent as the car descended. Outwardly, all seemed calm, but the air was palpably thick with the desire coursing between the two younger men. The elevator stopped on the Vista Deck, and the other couple made their way out. Before the doors could even close, Cas was pulling Dean to him. Open wide, wet, devouring kisses didn't stop when the elevator stopped.

Dean was aware of the swishing sound of the opening metal doors, but he didn't care. The only thing on his mind was Cas. The man's mouth should be fucking illegal. There was the faint taste of wine and Dean was drinking it in like he couldn't get enough. To breathe or not to breathe, that was the question. Dean giggled at his stupid humor, and Cas lifted his head. "Sorry, just thinking that I should probably breathe before I pass out and ruin the evening." Lazy eyes, the color of the sea twinkled, and he stepped back a few inches. Dean's body wanted to follow, but he forced himself to take a moment. He adjusted his junk, and at Cas' nod, they left the car.

Cas slipped his card into the slot, and the light turned green. They made eye contact as Cas pushed the door open. The frantic scramble to get their clothes off would have been comical if Dean wasn't so intent on watching each inch of skin appear as Cas stripped.

Finally, blissfully naked, they came together again. Cas palmed the back of Dean's head and brought him in for another tonsil-deep kiss. When his fingers fisted into Dean's hair and tugged his head back, Dean whined softly. Lips on his jaw... his throat. Seconds... or hours later, Cas' mouth was back on his, tongue hot and demanding. _Fuck_.

While Dean's hands remained on Cas' hips, seemingly glued there, Cas' hands were everywhere. Dean felt the skim of fingertips on his ribs, his ass, his nipples. _God_ , his nipples... a light touch and then a hard pinch. He gave a guttural moan and his hips bucked against Cas, their hard shafts grinding together. "Bed," Dean growled, knowing his legs wouldn't hold him much longer.

Cas knew he pissed Dean off with the crack about the Neanderthal. He knew it the moment the words left his mouth. He couldn't take them back, but he could beg forgiveness the only way he knew how.

Dancing with Dean hadn't been in the plan. The relentless pulse of the music, the hot bodies surrounding them… it all led to him wanting to bend Dean over and fuck him right then and there. Fuck the rest of the world. For a moment, he'd forgotten about everything. Fergus. The restaurant. The wall he'd built around his heart. It was all gone and there was only Dean. Those damn expressive green eyes. The smattering of freckles that shouldn't be this sexy. This man could make him want things he couldn't have. "Damn you for making me want..." He hadn't meant to say the words aloud. Dean was looking at him quizzically. He wouldn't meet his eyes, instead he watched Dean's lips.

Rhianna's _Rude Boy_ segued into an EDM mix of grinding techno music. Castiel wasn't into exhibitionism, but something came over him, and he couldn't stop touching Dean. Horny didn't even begin to describe how he felt. His cock was rock-hard and aching for more, and Cas was losing his fucking mind.

How they made it to his cabin, he didn't know. Fantasies of all the things he wanted to do to Dean pushed all coherent thought from his mind.

Now here he was... Dean gloriously naked and all his... his for tonight... maybe tomorrow. "Bed," Dean growled, his voice more strained than usual.

"I want you to ride me, Dean."  
"Giddy up," Dean replied with a flash of white teeth. Castiel let his eyes drifted heavenward, but he answered with a smile of his own before pushing Dean down onto the bed. Dean bounced once and then spread his legs wantonly. Castiel picked up the bottle of lube from where he'd left it last night. The top was missing, and he wondered if the housekeeping staff had found it and tossed it in the trash. He coated his fingers and looked down at Dean's magnificent body. His perfect cock was hard, and a small trail of precum was already on his stomach. He put one knee on the bed and then the other, nudging Dean's legs wider as he settled between them. Using his clean hand for leverage, he reached under Dean's balls and touched his slick fingertips to Dean's entrance. Dean mumbled something, but Castiel didn't catch it. He was too intent on the flexing of Dean's thighs and the way his stomach was moving up and down with each breath.

As Castiel pressed against the tight muscle, Dean closed his eyes and moved his hand to his cock. "No," he barked. Dean froze, his eyes flying open immediately. "Hands above your head." Castiel's tone was commanding and full of steel. Dean didn't even hesitate to do as he was told. Castiel pushed his forefinger inside, and he heard Dean's breath hitch. He looked up. Hooded, lust-filled eyes stared back at him. Slowly, carefully, Castiel moved in and out of Dean, eyes never moving from Dean's heated gaze. He added another finger, making sure he saw no signs of discomfort. Dean licked his lips, and his breathing was a bit harsher now.

"More?"

"Yes," Dean hissed. "More."

The heavy scent of sex and sweat filled the room as Castiel fucked Dean on three fingers, then four. When his body yielded easily to the intrusion, Castiel pulled out and reached for the box of condoms. He tore off another and tossed the rest toward the nightstand, not caring where they landed. Castiel rolled the condom down his shaft and squeezed out more lube, coating the length in the slick gel. He pushed Dean's right thigh out of the way and moved up the bed. Still on his knees, he turned and leaned against the headboard. He stroked his cock. "Dean."

The other man needed no further instructions. He rolled over onto his hands and knees and crawled over to him. He rose up and placed his hands on Castiel's shoulders. Castiel held his cock firmly at the base while Dean positioned himself over his lap. Castiel stopped breathing as Dean slid down, impaling himself, all trace of humor clearly gone. The slick, hot tightness engulfed Castiel and he closed his eyes. Last night, he recited a recipe to keep him from blowing his load too soon. Tonight, he couldn't even remember how to boil water. The feeling was fucking incredible. He didn't think anything could top last night, but he was wrong. So very wrong.

Castiel placed strong, warm hands on Dean's muscular thighs, and they started to move together. _Up and down_. He loved the way the muscles tightened and then relaxed under his palms. "So good," Castiel murmured before licking at the tiny drop of sweat sliding down Dean's neck. _Up and down_. Castiel's tongue moved lower, lapping at Dean's left nipple before using his teeth to tug it into his mouth. Dean moaned and Castiel felt him grab a handful of his hair, holding him steady. _He loves this_. Castiel suddenly wanted to know everything that turned Dean on… to learn all the secret ways he could take Dean apart and put him back together until this green-eyed god was completely at his mercy. _Up and down_.

"Harder." Dean's grip on his hair tightened, and Castiel sucked at the nipple, knowing he was pulling blood to the surface, leaving his mark on Dean’s flesh. Dean's hips were rolling salaciously back and forth, faster and faster. Castiel waited until Dean sank back down on him, and he thrust his hips upward while biting the sensitive bud. Dean cried out and bucked, almost pulling off Castiel's cock, but his hands on Dean's thighs kept him steady.

Dean's cock was trapped between their stomachs, their combined sweat and Dean's liquid arousal letting it slide easily. Dean's body shifted on his, and he waited for Dean to settle again. This time, Dean's right hand rested on the mattress and gave him more balance as he rolled his hips faster and faster. Castiel was torn. He wanted to continue his assault on Dean's nipple, but he also desperately wanted to kiss him. It was like Dean opened up a dam inside of him, and all the desires he hadn't given himself permission to feel came flooding through uncontrolled. He needed Dean's kisses, an addiction he’d gained without warning. When he raised his head to bring his lips to Dean's, they locked eyes. "Make me come, Cas," Dean said with a voice as desperate and out of control as Cas felt.

Years of running gave Castiel incredibly strong thighs, and he used them to fuck into Dean harder and faster, unable to resist giving Dean whatever he wanted. Dean grunted with every thrust as he pressed closer to give his cock more friction. Castiel was so close now, the familiar white heat coiling in his belly. He captured Dean's mouth and pushed his tongue inside, dominating him completely. As they both closed in on their release, the kiss broke until there were just gasps of air shared between them. Time seemed to stand still as their eyes locked and trapped them in flames that would soon consume them both.

Cas could feel something more than orgasm building between them, churning deep inside of him, awakening things long forgotten and completely terrifying. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before. He wanted to never feel it again, but _needed_ to feel it again at the same time.

Later, after they cleaned themselves up, Castiel watched as once again, Dean dressed. Since Fergus, he'd never wanted a man to stay. Not once. Now, he didn't want Dean to leave. He stood by the door, unsure of himself and that wasn't a good feeling. Castiel Novak had known exactly what he wanted since he'd left medical school against his parents' wishes. He set out to be the best chef, own the best restaurant, and be in control of his own destiny. He handled his life with decisiveness. This sense of uncertainty was foreign to him, and left him feeling as though the ground was shaking beneath his feet.

Dean pulled on his shoes and met him at the door, cocky smile in place. "What time do we have to be ready in the morning?" The unwelcome feeling slipped away. Tomorrow. They would have tomorrow without the haze of sexual desire to cloud his judgment. It would prove with certainty that Dean was just another pretty face... an easy lay. Castiel's life would return to normal. Or so he hoped…

Dean's alarm woke him from a dream filled with blue eyes and a soft smile. Dean shook off the remnants of the vision of Cas. Like before dinner last night, Dean felt tempted to stay in his room and hide. Not that Cas was pushing for anything more than sex – it was Dean that was developing a strange desire for something more. Spending more time with Cas would only lead to a future of 'what ifs'.

No one could call Dean Winchester a coward, though, so he resolutely showered, shaved, and got dressed. In his backpack, he checked for his camera, sunscreen, and phone. Just in case, he packed a change of clothes and a towel. Cas had mentioned snorkeling and maybe hitting the beach. Shoving his wallet into his shorts, he made his way to Cas' room.

The other man opened the door, dressed in a short-sleeved shirt patterned with pink flamingos. Dean raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. Cas also had a backpack slung over his shoulder. "Good morning, Dean."

"Morning. Ready to do this?"

"No need to make it sound like we are headed to a firing squad," Cas said, his voice sounding off. But he was smiling, so Dean didn't think any more about it. They went topside and watched with all the other passengers as the ship came alongside the huge concrete pier. Crew and dockworkers quickly worked the thick ropes over the heavy iron cleats. It took another ten minutes to get the gangplank in place for everyone to disembark. Cas and Dean stood in line with everyone else and eventually made it off the ship. Several uniformed crew members stood with signs pointing to the different tours and activities available to them. Since Cas seemed to have the day planned, Dean followed along.

The sun was already hot even though it was only eight-thirty. Dean found himself on a crowded bus with Cas heading to some Mayan ruins. Since he was by the window, he used his phone's camera to take some quick shots of the countryside. Cas was in a conversation with another couple. Half listening, Dean learned they were married and lived in Texas. Without conscious thought, Dean took Cas' picture. It was just a souvenir, he told himself.

Fifteen minutes into the ride, a young woman stood up and picked up a microphone. The entire tour took two hours and Dean found himself fascinated by both her commentary and the ancient ruins they passed. When they finally stopped at the legendary city of Chichen Itza, Dean was ready to explore. It was only after they'd stepped off on their own that Dean realized Cas had barely spoken to him. He wanted to ask what was wrong, but that would be too 'chick flick', right? Instead, he pointed to the pyramid of Kulkulcan. "Let's check it out."

By the time they'd seen the city and Dean had taken hundreds of pictures, Cas had lightened up. He read from the brochure and was in charge of the map. Listening to him talk about the Mayan culture in that gruff voice of his had Dean thinking that he'd have paid more attention in history class if the teacher had looked and sounded like Cas.

When the time came for them to board the bus again, Cas pointed as his friend, Balthazar was getting off another bus. They waved and the man joined them, his ever-present entourage hovering nearby. "May I recommend the market when you get back to town?" To Cas, he said, "I picked up a bottle of Mexican vanilla for the restaurant."

They chatted for a few minutes about their plans for the remainder of the day, and then Dean noticed the busdriver starting the engine. "We need to go, Cas." The ride back seemed to go quicker. The tour guide passed out boxed lunches, and Dean was happy to see American food; a sandwich, bag of chips, and a piece of fruit, along with a bottle of water.

The next stop was the cave snorkeling adventure. They listened as a nice-looking local explained how the Mayans believed the caverns were sacred. A basic lesson in snorkeling was given, and then everyone in the party stowed their belongings on the bus before getting ready to get into the water. Dean had seen Cas naked on more than on occasion now, but seeing him in a black Speedo was a sight to behold. Did the man even own modest swimwear? He saw a few of the other men staring at Cas and a feeling of possessiveness came over him. He didn't like it.  
The water was cool, almost cold, but it was clear. The group moved deeper into the cavern, and Dean noticed how some areas had man-made lighting installed, but the truly beautiful part of the cave was where the natural light came in through an opening in the ceiling of the cavern. He couldn't help smiling in wonder at how breathtaking it all was. The natural beauty and awesome colors of the cenote had Dean touching Cas often to point at the rock formations, stalactites, and stalagmites. Cas' answering smile made Dean glad he'd accepted Cas' invitation to join him.

All too soon, they boarded the bus again. The guide mentioned a local restaurant to taste the flavors of the Yucatan. Dean wasn't keen on the idea until he saw the familiar Corona beer logo on the outside of the small place. It wasn't much more than a shack, but it was right on the beach. "Let's get a few different things, and you can taste it all to see what you like," Cas suggested.

"My stomach is in your hands, dude." Dean looked around for a table outside, while Cas placed their order. He found an empty table with an umbrella that had a great view. He could see their ship and lots of oiled bodies lying on the sand. The smell of cooking food and suntan products tickled Dean's nose. Cas joined him moments later and set a Corona in front of him, a lime stuck out of the top. Cas sat down and looked around.

"It is beautiful here." Dean nodded his head in agreement and touched his beer to Cas'.

"Thanks for dragging me on this little adventure. Without you, I'd just be stuck in my cabin plotting out..." Dean stopped before he spilled more than he wanted to. "...work."

"I'm glad you came, Dean," Cas said seriously. He looked like he was going to say something else, but an older woman arrived with a tray of food. She set plate after plate on the table and Cas smiled at her. "Gracias."

"De nada. Espero que usted y su esposo disfrutan de su estancia."

"Gracias. Estoy seguro que vamos," Cas replied in rapid Spanish. Dean's year of high school Spanish had only left him with the knowledge to count to ten and say hello. When she walked away, Cas looked down at the food and pointed to each one as he told Dean what they were. "Those are castacan and cochinita, and these are pavo relleno negro and papadzules. Over here, we have panuchos and salbutes, and I had them give us local fruit for dessert."

  
"I'm not sure what you said, but I'm willing to try anything once," Dean said with an easy smile. Since Cas had taken the time to teach him about the food, Dean found that he actually enjoyed the new flavors. He picked up a soft flour tortilla stuffed with some sort of meat and cheese, brow furrowed in concentration at trying to eat it properly. Despite his earnest efforts, Dean somehow managed to drop half of the contents into his lap. He frowned in disappointment over the loss, then looked up to see the spark of amusement Cas was trying to hide. The glint in those blue eyes sent Dean over the edge, and he found himself laughing heartily in spite of his embarrassment. The tentative restraint on Cas’ barely suppressed laughter finally broke, and soon he was wiping his eyes from laughing so hard.

  
All too quickly, the ship's whistle blew giving them warning that it was time to board. Dean snatched the ticket off the table with a triumphant smirk and went inside to pay. Cas waited for him on the beach, and when he returned, they started walking back to the ship side by side, shoulders occasionally brushing. Dean found himself slowing his pace to prolong their time together, but it didn't take very long to get to the dock. Dean felt exhausted and yawned, apologizing sheepishly.

  
"I enjoyed today, Dean. Thank you, again, for joining me."

  
At Cas' somber tone, Dean looked over at him with a questioning look in his eyes. Cas was staring straight ahead, and Dean realized how much he enjoyed seeing the man's profile. He really was a good-looking guy. "I had fun, too," Dean said softly. "Look, Cas... it's only four o'clock. Maybe we could have a drink and go swimming or something. Or play mini-golf. That was a sweet-looking course on the upper deck." When Cas didn't respond right away, Dean backtracked, hoping to hide the disappointment he was feeling. "Or, yeah, well, it's been a long day. I've got... work... to do." Cas finally turned his head, meeting his eyes.

  
"No, a drink and a relaxing swim sounds good, Dean. I'd like that." Dean smiled warmly, feeling surprised at his intense relief over not having to leave Cas just yet. It was only after they parted briefly to go stow their backpacks that the doubts began again. This was just a temporary thing. These warm feelings didn't mean anything… probably just excitement from finally getting laid, nothing more. It was just nice to break his ridiculously long dry spell. Dean just needed to stop reading more into it and see it for what it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song I chose for them to dance to is Rhianna's Rude Boy. The song was performed by her, but written by Mikkel Storleer Eriksen, Rob Swire, Tor Erik Hermansen, Makeba Riddick, Robert Swire Thompson, Rihanna Fenty, Robyn Fenty, Esther Renay Dean, Dean Esther. It is not the song I was looking for, but it was okay. I wanted a song with a pulsing, sensuous beat and my readers really tried to help me out, but alas, I couldn't find the perfect one.


	6. Chapter 6

The entire day in Progreso was actually a lot of fun. He'd tried so hard to keep Dean at arm's length, but every time the man smiled or got excited over something new, a piece of the wall Castiel had built around himself chipped away. While Castiel had never been to the Yucatan before, he'd seen other parts of Central and South America on a food tour with friends. Seeing this culture through Dean's eyes was a whole new experience.

Castiel couldn't wait to introduce Dean to the different foods of the country. He’d felt amused by Dean's anxiety at the prospect of eating anything “weird” during their day together. Although he was tempted to see just how far he could push Dean's boundaries, he ultimately decided to play nicely with the guy. He'd ordered a huge assortment without going for anything too radical like trigger fish livers or grilled octopus. The woman who served them said she hoped they would enjoy their stay, and she assumed they were husbands. Castiel didn't feel the need to correct her. After all, he would never see her again. What would it hurt? After assuring her that they would, she left them alone.

Dean was kind of adorable in his suspicion of the foods he didn't recognize. Much to Castiel's surprise, Dean tried a taste of everything on the table. When he dropped part of his meal in his lap and gave a pout of disappointment, Castiel couldn’t hold in his laughter. It felt good to laugh so freely. It was only after Dean left to pay the bill that Castiel realized he hadn't laughed like that in a very long time. Why not? His life was good. He had a thriving restaurant. He loved his job. He had friends. He thought he'd been happy with Fergus, but that was all a lie. He was still thinking about it when Dean reappeared. They walked toward the ship in a comfortable silence.

When Dean yawned, all thoughts of the evening ahead were dashed. Dean was tired, and even though it was only four, they'd spent almost a whole day together. "I enjoyed today, Dean. Thank you, again, for joining me." They would part company once they boarded the ship, and he didn't know if they'd see each other again. His chest ached with an unexpected and confusing stab of disappointment.

Castiel was surprised when Dean invited him to spend more time together. He was so surprised, in fact, he couldn't respond right away. Cas definitely wanted to spend more time with Dean, but he was also terrified of all the feelings he'd started having since he first laid eyes on the man. As he mentally debated the merits of shiny, new companionship versus dark, but familiar loneliness, he watched Dean's expression grow somber and withdrawn. Castiel didn't know which side had greater merit, but he did know he couldn’t stand seeing Dean feeling that way. He made his decision more easily than he would care to admit.

After making plans to meet up at the RedFrog Rum Bar on the Panorama Deck, they parted ways. Castiel dropped his backpack in his room and collapsed on the bed. He was tired after being in the sun all day, but if he took a short nap, he'd be ready to hang out with Dean for a few more hours. Setting his alarm, he closed his eyes.

The insistent buzzing woke him thirty minutes later, and he quickly showered. He pulled on a bathing suit and then tugged shorts over it. He took the elevator to the upper decks and made it with two minutes to spare. Promising himself he wouldn't get upset if Dean was late, he glanced around. The deck was crowded. While he was asleep, the ship had left the docks and was now heading toward Cozumel. On his brochure, he'd circled the zip-lines and the dolphin swim. His initial plans were to go alone and pick up another warm body for his bed. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now…

"Hey. Ready for a drink?" Dean asked, coming up behind him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Sure." Castiel and Dean moved closer to the bar and waited their turn. Castiel perused the laminated drink menu with Dean looking over his shoulder, his chest pressed to Castiel's back. He was so distracted by the closeness, he couldn't comprehend the words in front of him anymore. He felt certain he knew how to read once...

"I'll have a Dirty Banana," Dean told the bartender. The words ‘dirty banana’ made Castiel giggle like a teenager. Dean elbowed him. "Hey, don't make fun of me, it sounds awesome." Dean snatched the menu out of his hand and called out, "And he'll have a Sex With An Alligator."

"I will not..."

"Shut up, Cas. You're having sex with an alligator. How can you go wrong with..." He picked up the menu again and read, "…melon liqueur, raspberry liqueur, sweet and sour mix, and Jagermeister?"

The concoction put in front of Castiel was green. Really green. There was a raspberry speared through with a tiny umbrella. Dean's drink was the consistency of a smoothie and resembled chocolate milk. After paying for the first round, Dean led the way to the row of deck chairs by the wave pool in the middle of the deck. A few men were trying their hands at surfing, but most were just standing around, talking and drinking. Castiel took his first sip, and his eyes widened comically. Dean laughed out loud. When he could talk again, Castiel gave Dean a dirty look. "This is an abomination."

"Bet it'll fuck you up though," Dean said, pursing his lips and shrugging. "Want to trade?" He held up his cup, and Castiel was tempted, but he held firm. He could prove that he could hang with Dean.

A few drinks later, Castiel thankfully switched to Rum Runners. Both of them were laughing at everyone and everything. The sun was sinking fast, and Castiel heard Dean's stomach growl. "Should we forage for food?"

Dean thought that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard apparently, because the man was slapping his thigh and laughing loud enough that several people stopped talking to look at them. Castiel couldn't help but grin at the obviously inebriated man. With a high tolerance for alcohol, Castiel just watched as the drinks worked their magic. Dean's skin was flushed and everything was funny. He also got handsy. At first, it was light slaps and friendly punches like locker room touches, but then his fingers would trail slowly across Castiel's forearm leaving chills in their wake. The gap between their chairs soon narrowed to just a few inches. Castiel was amused and aroused all at once, and he wanted to kiss that stupid grin off Dean's face.

"Need an...an...an...nother," Dean slurred, putting his hand on Castiel's knee to leverage himself to his feet. Castiel tugged him back down.

"Let's get you to your cabin, Dean. We dock in Cozumel in the morning, and you want to be ready for that, don't you?"

"What are we...we doing...in Cos...omile?" Dean stared at him with slightly unfocused eyes. ‘ _We aren't doing anything_ , Castiel thought. He stood and swayed a bit. He wasn't as sober as he thought he was.

"Come on," Castiel mumbled, taking Dean's hand in his and purposefully not answering Dean's question. Castiel led them to the elevators and then turned to Dean. "What deck?"

"Empress. That's like a princess, but bigger," Dean said, his hands coming out to show a yard span between them. Only Castiel's hand was still locked in one of them, and it almost made them lose their balance. It made Dean giggle again. Castiel shook his head at Dean's antics and pressed the button. The car began to descend.

When they reached Dean's deck, Castiel had to wrestle Dean's key card away from him to read the room number. "Toll ya, it's seven...sixty-seven."

"You aren't even close, Dean." Castiel inserted the card into the door and pushed it open. The cabin was less than half the size of Castiel's. He saw the bottled water sitting on the dresser and grabbed one. "Did you bring any aspirin?"

"Think so," Dean mumbled and collapsed face down on his bed. Castiel sighed and stepped into the tiny bathroom. Dean's shaving kit was on the vanity, and he found what he was looking for. He went back to the bedside and knelt down.

"Dean, I need you to take these." He held out his hand, and Dean blindly reached for them. "Okay, you have to sit up." Castiel grunted as he rolled Dean to his back and tugged his arms until he was reclining against Castiel's side. "Open."

"Make airplane noises, Cas. You gotta make airplane noises." Trying hard to remain the only adult in the room, Castiel made the appropriate sounds, and Dean obediently opened his mouth wide. Castiel popped the pills in and handed Dean the water. When he pushed it away after a few sips, Castiel shook his head.

"No, Dean, you need to drink this." It took a lot of coaxing on Castiel's part, but Dean finally finished the bottle before passing out onto his pillow. He stared down at him, long lashes fanned over freckled skin. He really was breathtakingly beautiful.

Leaning down, Castiel brushed his hand across Dean's forehead, touched his lips to Dean's in a tender kiss, and then abruptly shot up in panic. Why the _fuck_ did he do that? Wiping his lips as if to erase the innocent kiss, Castiel hurriedly backed away from the bed, and in doing so, knocked against the small desk. The mouse moved and Dean's laptop screen came to life. He meant to walk out the door, but he was only human, _right_? Dean had been so close-mouthed about his job. A peek wouldn't hurt.

A file was open, and Castiel stared transfixed. D.R. Winchester? It was a manuscript. Castiel glanced down at the word count. Only six thousand words. So… a new story? Was Dean _the_ D.R. Winchester? He spun around and looked at the bed. Dean was sprawled out like a deformed octopus. Soft snores came from his partially open mouth. Quietly and carefully, Castiel lifted Dean's hip and waited while the sleeping man snuffled before settling back into the incoherent state of a drunken stupor. Castiel pulled out the wallet from Dean's back pocket and bit his lip as he stared at it. He exhaled and flipped it open. Dean's unsmiling face stared back at him from a Louisiana driver's license. Dean R. Winchester. _D.R._ He closed it and set it on the nightstand. Why would Dean hide something like that?

With a longing look at the laptop screen, Castiel let himself out of Dean's room. As he rode the elevator to his deck and walked down the corridor, he thought about D.R. Winchester. He had all of his books. Normally, he liked novels with more depth and suspense, but Dean's books had a way of making him wish that true love was real. _Stupid_.

He unlocked his door and got ready for bed. Dean's latest work was in his backpack. He pulled it out and set it by the bed. After he crawled under the covers and set his alarm, he opened the book to the back.

**_D.R. Winchester is the author of gay erotica and gay romance. He has written over twenty novels. He lives in Louisiana and enjoys hanging out with his brother, drinking good beer, and working on his classic car. Currently, he is single but says he hopes to find his soulmate someday. You can contact D.R. through his publisher..._ **

Unlike most authors, there was no picture included with the short bio. He recalled Dean talking about his car; an old Chevrolet Impala, if he remembered correctly. So, Dean and D.R. Winchester were probably the same person.

He loved all of Dean's books, but he never considered himself a fan. He'd never even done a Google search for the man. Why would he? He unpacked his iPad and told the ship's wifi prompt that yes, he would pay the extra fee. He typed in Dean's pen name and searched images. And there he was… at what looked like a series of book signings. Well, at least Castiel knew that Dean wasn't keeping himself completely private, but why didn't he tell Castiel who he was? He'd asked him point blank, and Dean had lied. No, that wasn't true. Dean didn't outright lie, he just avoided the truth. Dean didn't even want him to know his real name. Castiel could honestly say he liked Dean, probably more than he cared to admit. He thought Dean liked him, too. And now… now he felt foolish. And stupid. And fucking angry at himself.

His thoughts weighed heavily on him, and it was a long time before he fell into a fitful sleep.

He needed to pee. Like a racehorse. He sat up and groaned. He hadn't consumed that much alcohol in a long time. He remembered Cas coming with him to his cabin and making him take aspirin. He closed his eyes. Fuck, he'd really embarrassed himself.

Shuffling to the bathroom, he ran his tongue over his teeth. Gross… it felt like they were all wearing little sweaters. Sweaters that tasted like shit and probably smelled that way too.

With clean teeth and an empty bladder, Dean felt a bit more human. He stretched and scratched his balls.

An embodied voice came over the small speaker in the corner of his cabin. " _The ship will be docking in Cozumel in forty-five minutes. If you haven't signed up for the Dolphin Swim, please go to the Promenade Deck and sign up at the information desk._ "

"Shit." He didn't remember making plans to spend the day with Cas. He wondered if the man would still be in his room. He took a five minute shower and threw on a pair of shorts and a black t-shirt. For good measure, he put on a baseball cap.

A few minutes later, he was knocking on Cas' door. He waited and then knocked again. Shit. He huffed and went back to the elevators. He needed food to fuel his brain. The buffet was packed, and Dean had to get in line. He waved at the little, dorky dude that made porn. He saw recognition in the man's eyes and before Dean knew it, his arms were full of the dude. "Good morning, you sexy thing." He looked around Dean and frowned. "Surely you are not alone."

"Afraid so," Dean muttered, shuffling forward as the line moved.

"Are you going ashore?"

"Probably not. I thought I'd have..." Dean shrugged and didn't finish his sentence. The man's jovial expression changed.

"Look, me and my new main squeeze are going to grab some food and then head out for the Jeep Adventure. Why don't you hang out with us? I promise we won't have sex in front of you."

Dean couldn't help the smile. "I don't know, man..." The thought of spending the day alone really didn't appeal to him. He knew he should be writing, but to hell with it. "Sure. Your... umm... main squeeze won't mind, will he?"

"Fuck, no." He turned around and pointed to a table. "That's him. He's in a band." Dean followed Gabe's finger and saw a nice looking guy with some facial hair looking back at them.

With his plate full, he followed Gabe to the table. "Chuck, snookums, this is Dean. Dean, Chuck."

"Nice to meet you. Hope I'm not intruding," Dean offered before sitting down. Fifteen minutes later, Dean was glad he'd taken Gabe up on his offer. Other than a chaste kiss between them, the two men were polite and funny as hell.

"We should go," Chuck said, looking at his watch. "We reserved the jeep for nine, and it might take a few minutes to find the place." The three men stood up, and soon they were walking down the dock toward the town. Gabe gestured toward a line of jeeps and they headed in that direction. They stood with the other passengers and listened to the guide's spiel before getting into a bright red jeep.

As Dean was getting behind the wheel, he glanced back and saw a shock of wild, dark brown hair. It wasn't Cas. His disappointment must have showed. "Looking for someone special?" Gabe's question was sincere, and Dean found himself telling the two men about Cas and how he'd thought there was a connection, but he ruined it all by getting wasted.

"Yeah, so why would someone like him want someone like me? No one wants a date that gets so drunk you have to help them to bed."

"Maybe you two just didn't get a chance to communicate. He might have been looking for you this morning. The ship is pretty big," Gabe suggested and Chuck nodded in agreement.

Dean shook his head. "Whatever. Let's just go." The guide pulled his jeep out, and one by one the others followed him. Theirs was fourth in line. The tour took three hours and they were back in town in time for lunch. They found a cantina on the beach, and Dean ordered fish tacos. He didn't have Cas here to pick his food for him, and that made him lose his appetite. He blamed it on the hot sun because Dean Winchester did _not_ lose his appetite and certainly not over dumb _feelings_.

Chuck and Gabe were poring over the activities brochure from the ship. "We can do the canoe excursion, Passion Island, zip-lines, and we might still be able to do the dolphin swim," Gabe informed them.

"What’s Passion Island?" Dean asked, pushing his plate away. Both men grinned at him and got up to leave the table. Distracted by his own thoughts, Dean found himself blindly following them to Passion Island. He should have known better. He _really_ should have known better...

The catamaran skimmed across the water, and Dean could feel the cool spray against his skin. It was pretty awesome to be out on the ocean like this. He saw the strip of white, sandy beach in the distance. There were already several people there. Dean assumed they rode over earlier while he was enjoying the jeep tour.

There was a hut on the beach that was set up with towels, sunscreen, and bottled water. Dean absentmindedly followed Gabe and Chuck, and as he waited his turn, it hit him. Everyone on the beach was naked. _Naked_ , as in no clothes. _What the fucking fuck_? His eyes scanned the bodies lounging on the sand. It was like a buffet of man meat as far as he could see. Gabe turned and handed him a small container of sunscreen. "Make sure you lather up your bits. Sunburned junk is no man's friend, trust me."

"Oh, well, I don't think I'll be..." Dean's head swiveled around to see if anyone else was wearing even the smallest scrap of cloth.

"It's a nude beach, Dean. You cannot convince me you are shy about that hot bod of yours. As my dear old mother used to say… If you got it, flaunt it." Unable to come up with a retort for that useless bit of wisdom, Dean took a towel from the vendor and hurried to catch up with his new friends. No way was he getting separated from the pack.

They spread out their towels, and Dean was thankful they were pretty big. He didn't want to think about sand in all his cracks and crevices. Seemingly without a care in the world, Gabe and Chuck stripped and began putting sunscreen on each other. Dean was a bit slower. He pulled off his t-shirt and neatly folded it. His deck shoes came next. He was trying hard not to stare at anyone's junk. He thought a nude beach probably had some sort of bro-code about that.

He could not believe he was actually doing this… He counted to ten, hooked his thumbs in his waistband, and pushed his shorts down his legs. After stepping out of them, he held them in front of his crotch. Gabe, clearly not even a little bit shy about nudity, smirked at him. "I will be very disappointed if your cock is the size of a Vienna sausage." It wasn't fair to attack his pride, so Dean rose to the challenge and dropped his shorts on top of his shirt. Gabe whistled suggestively. Chuck shook his head and swatted him on the butt, making Gabe yelp in surprise.

Chuck chastised him. "Leave the poor guy alone, Gabe."

"A well-hung man should never hide his assets. Anytime you want to change careers, you let me know, Big Boy." Dean rolled his eyes and reached for the sunscreen.

Pretty soon, Dean forgot all about being naked in front of a crowd. No one seemed to notice... well, there was that one couple groping each other at the shoreline. Yes, Dean noticed. He wasn't dead. His eyes went to the rock formations to the left of the beach and his eyes widened. It was Cas. He was standing next to his friend, Balzabob or something like that. A few more young guys were standing with them. And Cas was just there – in all his glory. He wanted to turn away, but Cas' buddy caught his eye and nudged Cas. He got to see the reaction. Shock and disappointment.

Maybe he should apologize for getting drunk. No wait, fuck him and his judgmental bullshit. Dean rolled over on his stomach and turned his head away. _Fuck him_.

A shadow fell over his face a few minutes later. Dean opened his eyes and looked up at a silhouette. Nope, not Cas. "Keeping secrets is a quick way to get Castiel to walk away. And I think he really liked you too."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Dean didn't want to sit up and expose himself to Bal...Balthazar...that was it.

"D.R. Winchester." Dean grabbed his shorts and sat up quickly, dropping them in his lap to cover himself. "Lying by omission is still lying. Castiel has had enough of that in his life. And sadly, the poor son of a bitch thinks you didn't like him enough to tell him the truth. You are a complete moron." Getting lectured by a man whose cock was in your face was going to make it to Dean's top ten weird-things-that-happened-to-him list. Balthazar began to walk away.

"Wait," Dean called. The older man turned and gave Dean a questioning look. Dean looked past him and didn't see Cas anywhere.

"Well? You have something to say?"

"I need to talk to him." Balthazar stared at him for what seemed like minutes, but was in fact, seconds.

"He went for a walk with someone." Jealousy surged through Dean. Cas – naked Cas – went for a walk with another guy. _Another naked guy_.

"Ah, the green-eyed monster has arrived at the party," Balthazar said softly. "He took the path behind the rocks." Dean stood up and realized that Gabe and Chuck were following the whole conversation.

"Go get your man, Dean-o. Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker." Gabe chortled and Dean took off at a jog. A few strides in and he realized running while naked is neither flattering or comfortable. He settled for a brisk walk.

When he rounded the break in the rocks, he saw the path Balthazar mentioned. Keeping the same pace, he followed it. He spotted movement ahead and even though he was out of breath, he surged forward. "Cas," he called out. He came over a dune covered in sea oats and saw them. Both men were staring up at him. Cas in confusion and the other guy looked irritated.

"Dean?" Dean watched Cas' eyes roam over his body before a mask came down on his face. His expression was blank.

"I need to talk to you." Dean looked pointedly at the other guy. "Alone."

"Listen, buddy..."

"I'm not your buddy," Dean stated menacingly. Then remembered he was naked. Tough words from a naked dude didn't carry the same weight as someone wearing clothes.

"Cole, could you leave us," Cas' voice was devoid of emotion. With one last angry look at Dean, the other man stomped back towards the shore. They stared at each other for a few moments.

Dean swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat. What could he say? Everything he was feeling hinged on this moment, and he couldn't even think of how to start talking. _Say something, you stupid fucker!_   Dean cleared his throat loudly. "Cas...I know you know who I am. And I'm sorry for keeping it a secret. I had my reasons...at least...well...they seemed like good reasons at the time. I write _gay fiction_...this is a _gay cruise_." Cas' expression didn't change. Not one iota. He wasn't getting any sympathy here. "Look, I just figured if anyone found out who I was that I wouldn't get to enjoy my vacation. Not that this was a planned vacation. I was going to just stay in my cabin and write...alone. And then you came along.

Dean trailed off, losing his nerve for a second. Then he looked into Cas’ perfect eyes and decided to just say fuck it and tell him everything. “Cas… The thing is, I've been having writer's block for ages, and my publishers have been breathing down my neck. But damn, out of nowhere, the muse hit me and I got inspired to write again. And now, instead of sitting my ass in a chair to write, all I want to do is be with you." Something flickered in Cas' eyes. "I get that you just wanted to keep things simple and that's okay. I can be what you want me to be. Just a shipboard fling. I can be that." Dean's self respect seemed to have fled the second he saw Cas with another man. God, he was pathetic, but he didn't care. Cas deserved the truth, even if it made Dean uncomfortable to share it. 

"I'm not sure I want a shipboard fling, Dean," Cas stated quietly. Dean's heart sank.

"Yeah, okay, Cas, I get that." Dean turned around to leave, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He should have never come on this Goddamn cruise.

"Dean," Cas responded in a low voice. "I never said I didn't want you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know...I know...I left you hanging. 
> 
> Will there be Sex on the Beach or is that just a cheesy cocktail? Stay tuned.


	7. Chapter 7

Balthazar was surprised by Castiel's appearance at his door the next morning. "Ah, gracing me with your presence... what happened? Loverboy get tired of you already?" His friend was wearing a pair of tight shorts and no shirt. His hair was still wet, so Castiel knew he'd already showered. It would save time. He was ready to get the hell off this ship. 

 

"Shut up, Zar," Castiel's voice sounded tired, and Balthazar picked up on it right away.  

 

"Sorry, didn't mean to hit so close to home," Balthazar said softly and damn it, Castiel didn't need his pity. 

 

Castiel sighed and leaned against the wall. "He kept a huge secret from me, and you know I don't do well with those." When Balthazar opened his mouth to speak, Castiel shook his head. "I just want to spend the day with my best friend and maybe sample some fresh ass." Maybe finding another man would help convince him that Dean was just another dick, nothing more. Even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew it wasn't true. There had been _something_ between them, even though Cas would give anything to believe otherwise at the moment. Either way, he felt the need to run. So he resigned himself to getting laid by someone who wasn't Dean.  

 

Balthazar pursed his lips, but didn't say anything else about Dean, and Castiel was thankful for that. "Let me finish getting dressed, and we'll go to breakfast. The ship docks at eight. I hope you’re okay with going to Passion Island, because that is my plan for the day." 

 

"Whatever." Castiel didn't care where they went or what they did as long as it wasn't here on the ship. The possibility of running into Dean right now made his stomach twist in knots. Balthazar turned from the door, leaving it open. Castiel could see the bed and two blond heads poking from beneath the sheets. "Shouldn't you wake your guests?" 

 

"In a moment. I wore them out last night, the poor dears," he said, his voice muffled as he tugged a very tight white t-shirt over his head. A few minutes later, Balthazar was ready to go. He held up a finger to Castiel and then shook the two naked bodies in his bed. "Darlings, time to rise and shine. Greet the new day and all that crap." 

 

Castiel had to hand it to his friend... He skillfully had the two younger men dressed and out the door in less than five minutes. There wasn't even any 'morning after' awkwardness. Castiel watched them walk unsteadily down the hall toward the elevators. "How do you even do that?" 

 

"What, Cassie? Fuck two at the same time? It's a gift," Balthazar said with a smirk. 

 

Rolling his eyes, Castiel said, "No, you ass… I meant how do you get them to leave without all the 'can I have your number, when will I see you again' bullshit?" 

 

"Oh, that. Like I said, it's a gift." He grabbed his wallet and checked to see if he had is key card before ushering Castiel out the door. Breakfast was a hastily grabbed cup of coffee and a Danish, since Balthazar was worried about missing the first boat out to Passion Island. As they left the ship, Castiel couldn't help but scan the crowds to see if he could spot a pair of beautifully bowed legs. He hid his disappointment by pretending to agree with Balthazar on the physical attributes of all the men around them. Honestly, none of them appealed to him in the slightest, and it irked Castiel to no end. It was like tasting a perfect filet mignon only to realize you were stuck eating Spam for the rest of your life. Castiel ran his fingers through his hair and wondered if it was too early to get drunk.    

 

They made it to the landing with time to spare and boarded the catamaran that would take them to the private island. As they sailed across the sparkling blue water, Castiel forced himself to relax. He'd taken yoga for a few years and remembered how to meditate. He cleared his mind and focused on enjoying the feel of the salt spray on his face. 

 

He should have been shocked when he found out Passion Island was a nude beach, but he wasn't. Balthazar was nothing if not predictable. Castiel wasn't shy about his body and had no problem slipping out of his clothes. He spent the morning keeping cool in the surf. He was approached by a few men, and he was polite when he turned them down. He just couldn't feel a spark for any of them. What was wrong with him?  

 

A light lunch was provided, and Castiel sat on his towel next to Balthazar. A dark-haired man in his thirties was sitting nearby, and he struck up a conversation about the rock formations. His name turned out to be Cole, and he was a geologist for a large environmental engineering firm. He took Castiel to the rocks and was explaining how they were formed when Castiel saw the catamaran approaching. Another load of cruise passengers disembarked, and he wondered when Baltazar wanted to leave.  He called his friend over. "Are we leaving on that boat?" 

 

"I wanted to stay a bit longer, Castiel," Balthazar said motioning towards another group of men. Within minutes, they joined Castiel and Cole by the formations. Castiel was attempting to pay attention to Cole drone on about the environmental impact on drilling in the Gulf of Mexico when Balthazar nudged him. "Don't look now..." But of course Castiel _had_ to look, and there was Dean looking right at him. Then Dean rolled over on his stomach, facing in the opposite direction. That alone told Castiel everything he needed to know. He wasn't important to Dean. 

 

"Cole, would you like to go for a walk?" He knew the other man was attracted to him. All he needed to get Dean out of his system was sex. Cole seemed surprised but pleased, and Castiel led him around the end of the jagged rocks. He needed to find some privacy. They didn't touch or speak. There was a well-worn path and Castiel followed it. He felt Cole's presence behind him.  

 

"Castiel, could you slow down?" He glanced back and realized Cole was a few yards behind him.  

 

"Sorry." Castiel waited for the other man to catch up, and he reached for him. Cupping his hand behind Cole's neck, he brought him in for a kiss. The familiar feeling he had before Dean came along returned, and he found he couldn't stand to feel Cole's mouth on his own. It was brief, and he stepped back, looking away from the other man. "Perhaps we should walk a bit further." 

 

Cole looked at him quizzically but didn't comment on the abrupt way Castiel aborted his attempt at intimacy. They crested a dune covered in sea oats, and as they went down the other side, Castiel froze. "Cas." He stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes.  

 

Beside him, Cole asked sharply, "Who the fuck is that?" 

 

Exhaling slowly, Castiel opened his eyes. "Dean?" He couldn’t stop his eyes from looking at every single inch of Dean’s spectacularly bare skin. Damn him. He closed off his emotions.  

 

"I need to talk to you," Dean said, his eyes darting to Cole. "Alone." 

 

"Listen, buddy..." Cole's body language spoke volumes about his irritation. 

 

"I'm not your buddy." Dean's voice was cold, bordering on aggressive, and Castiel watched him clench his fists. He had the fleeting thought that possessive Dean was _hot_. He needed to defuse this situation before fists started flying. Any other time, Castiel would be flattered by two men fighting over him, but seeing Dean like this made his mind spin out of control with all the thoughts and emotions he was trying to keep hidden. He needed to remember that Dean sought _him_ out. Maybe he should at least listen to what he had to say... 

 

"Cole, could you leave us?" Castiel heard a low growl in Cole's throat and knew he'd never see the man again. Oh well… Castiel supposed he would just have to find a way to go on living without hearing that _riveting_ lecture on _rocks_. After Cole was gone, Castiel stared at Dean's unflinching eyes. He waited. He watched emotion after emotion flit through Dean's eyes. There was a part of him that would love to hear the inner battle that was happening inside Dean's head. He suspected it would be quite entertaining, to say the least… 

 

Dean cleared his throat and started talking. _Breathe_ , _Dean_ , Castiel thought. _Just breathe_. As the words spilled from Dean's lips, Castiel's anger and pain began to dissipate. Castiel knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Dean was being honest and sincere, but his final words seemed to pierce right through Castiel’s cold, hardened heart. "I can be that." Dean just offered to lower his expectations... to throw away his pride... and it left Castiel’s soul feeling flayed open and completely bare. 

 

"I'm not sure I want a shipboard fling, Dean."  _Damn it._ Was he really doing this? Was he really putting his heart out there again? Was he really risking his sanity... risking feeling vulnerable again… just to be with another person? But Dean wasn't _just_ another person, was he? No, he was more. God help him for admitting it, but Dean was _more_. Being honest with himself about it was both liberating and confining all at once. But denying the truth had only made him miserable. He had to believe in… _more_. 

 

"Yeah, okay, Cas. I get that," Dean said, anguish evident in his tone and in the way his shoulders hunched forward. He turned and took a step back the way he had come. 

 

"Dean.” Dean stopped dead in his tracks. Castiel braced himself and continued. “I never said I didn't want you." Castiel watched as Dean stayed frozen in place. He didn't turn around.  

 

"What are you sayin', Cas?" Castiel could hear the slight trace of fear in Dean’s voice, and he suddenly understood that Dean was afraid of rejection. It made Castiel's heart ache. He closed the distance between them. He leaned his chest against Dean's warm back and set his chin on Dean's shoulder. Dean held himself still. 

 

"I can't make any promises, Dean." He felt Dean stiffen, and he ran his palms down Dean's biceps. "But New Orleans isn't far from Abita Springs. We can try." Dean remained silent for a few moments, and then he relaxed and chuckled softly. 

 

"Do you realize we just had our first real serious conversation and we’re both buck-naked?" Castiel's lips twitched. He'd totally forgotten their lack of clothing. 

 

"I think it turned out okay. We should remember that for the next time we have a fight." 

 

"Naked fighting, huh? Maybe if everyone did that, the world would be a happier place," Dean said with a wicked smile. 

 

"Maybe so," Castiel agreed. Dean turned to face him. Castiel let himself look at Dean's handsome face for a few seconds before he started kissing. His lips touched his nose, his cheeks, his stubbled chin, tiny pecks for each of his freckles...  

 

"Uh, Cas? What are you doing? Not that I'm complaining..." 

 

"From the moment I first saw you, I've wanted to see how each freckle tasted," Castiel murmured against his skin. Dean pulled his head back to look him in the eyes. His soft smile and the twinkle in those unbearably green eyes was Castiel's undoing. He buried his fingers in the hair on the back of Dean's head and dragged him down for a searing kiss. His tongue invaded Dean's willing mouth and he felt his cock stiffen between his legs. 

 

The last fifteen minutes of his life were kind of surreal… an emotional roller coaster. Hopes dashed only to be resurrected, and then _holy shit_ , Cas was acting like he wanted to eat him alive. Cas was gripping Dean's ass so hard, he knew it would leave marks. Not that Dean had a problem with that… There was something hot as fuck about Cas leaving marks on him…  

 

They were rutting together like animals in heat. Dean was gasping for air. "Cas... whoa... gotta slow down, man..." 

 

Cas' lips were no longer on his skin and for a brief moment, he wanted them back. Chest heaving, he put his hand over Cas' heart and tried to collect his thoughts. All the blood was in his cock and his brain wasn't functioning properly. Cas looked at him, and Dean was pleased that the other man looked just as wrecked as he was. A sheen of sweat covered Cas’ entire body and he was panting heavily. His eyes seemed unfocused. Cas nodded his head and said, "We should..." Dean lifted a brow, waiting for Cas to finish, but he just looked confused as hell… and _fuck_ , was that ever a turn on. 

 

They heard the sound of a throat clearing, and they both jumped apart. "Sorry to interrupt, but I needed to make sure you hadn't killed each other." Dean tried valiantly to hide his erection with his hands, but his hands weren't that big. Balthazar noticed and smirked. "Hon, I've seen a hard cock before."  

 

"Zar," Cas said through clenched teeth, his words laced with steel. "Can you please leave us _alone_?" 

 

"Of course, darling. I shall leave my gift right here." He bent and set a rolled towel on the sand and backed away, palms facing out in submission like he was dealing with a rabid dog. He flashed a knowing grin. "You have an hour before the last boat leaves. Have fun." 

 

Dean let his head fall against Cas' chest with a groan. "I'm naked with a raging boner on an island, surrounded by nude, gay men. This is _so_ going in a book." Cas chuckled, and Dean felt Cas' lips brush against his temple. 

 

"I think D.R. Winchester could do that storyline justice," he whispered against Dean's hair. Using his forefinger, he lifted Dean's chin. "If I know Zar as well as I think I do, that towel is holding condoms and lube." Green eyes met blue, then looked pointedly at the rolled towel.  

 

"Hmm... Wait right here." Dean tapped his finger on Cas' chest. "Don't move." Dean strode over to the towel and picked it up. When he unrolled it, he grinned. "Jackpot. Your friend is pretty cool. I still don't like that he saw my junk, but he gets brownie points for this." 

 

Dean looked around. While the path seemed private, he didn't like the idea of someone walking up on them. He planned on taking Cas apart piece by piece and he didn't want to share that part of Cas with anyone. He tucked the towel under his arm and grabbed Cas' hand. He stepped off the path and made his way around a stand of palms to a more secluded area of the beach. Another wall of rock blocked them from prying eyes.  

 

"I've never fucked outside like this," he said, excited and nervous at the same time. Yeah, so he'd had mind-blowing sex with Cas... twice. But that was before it was really a _thing_. Now it was something _more,_ and Dean found himself thinking he wanted this time to be… special. _Shut up._ "Well, not unless you count the times I've done it in the backseat of my car..." 

 

Cas smiled at him, a gentle smile that caused Dean's mouth to go dry. Cas took the towel from him and spread it on the sand. He tossed the condom and the small packet of lube down next to the towel. "Dean," he whispered and cupped Dean's face between his hands. "We don't have to do this if you are uncomfortable." 

 

The walk and Dean's obvious case of nerves left him flaccid, and he realized Cas' cock was only at half mast. They could walk back to the beach and no one would be the wiser. "I'll have you whenever, wherever, but it's your decision, Dean." 

 

Dean raised his hands and let them up to rest on Cas' hips, drawing small circles with his thumb on his sexy-as-fuck hip bones. He looked deep into Cas’ eyes and smiled tenderly. "I'm good, Cas." Dean closed his eyes and lowered his mouth to Cas'. His hands roamed across Cas’ back and his right hand continued up to grasp the unruly hair as their kiss deepened. As they devoured each other, it was wet and messy, and Dean didn't give a fuck. The smell of sweat, salty air, and sunscreen acted as an aphrodisiac. His cock was thick and hard as it pressed against Cas. He moaned when Cas' fingers found his nipples and tugged at them until they were swollen and almost painful to the touch. Cas broke the kiss and they both sucked in air like they were drowning.  

 

Dean wasn’t sure exactly what happened, but somehow he was no longer in control. He was now sitting on his ass with an extremely sexy man in his lap. Cas' thighs were so damn muscular. "You run?" Dean mentally groaned… now was not the time to question Cas' exercise habits.  

 

"Yes," Cas said, licking into Dean's mouth. He felt the cool gel on his cock and bucked up at the sensation. He flung his arms behind him to keep himself upright. Cas had his hand around both of their lengths, the slick wetness making it so much more erotic. He'd definitely have to write this in... And all thoughts disappeared as Cas rocked against him, stroking them faster. Cas was in complete control and Dean felt his balls tightening. It was too soon. _Christ_... 

 

" _Fuck_... Cas... I can't…" His orgasm hit him like a freight train. Dean threw his head back in ecstasy, crying out Cas’ name. His heart was pounding, and his muscles contracted to the point of pain. He reared up and then anchored his arms around Cas, unable to let go.  

 

"Beautiful...," Cas rasped out as he continued to stroke them both. Dean was oversensitive, and he grunted. He let his head fall forward and opened his eyes. Cas' hand was covered in Dean's cum and he was using it to get himself off. His hand was a blur on his thick cock. He rocked forward, his balls slapping against Dean's. He let out a filthy groan, and Dean thought it was the sexiest thing he'd ever heard. Dean growled as he grasped Cas’ hair and yanked his head back. He latched his mouth onto the base of Cas’ neck, biting down _hard_ on the thick muscle.  " _God_... _Dean_... fuck, yes." He felt the hot splatter of Cas’ release against his skin as he screamed Dean’s name over and over again. He fell backward, completely spent and dragged Cas down with him. 

 

When Dean could breathe again, he opened his eyes and saw a cloudless sky. Maybe fucking outdoors wasn't that bad after all. As all his senses came back online, he decided that sex on the beach might not have been their best idea. The towel had somehow rucked up his back and his bare ass was in the sand. Sweat and other bodily fluids made the grit stick to his skin and he felt nasty. Cas was also splayed on top of him and he wasn't some twink. He was a very muscular, six-foot man. "Cas… babe, you're crushing me." Cas raised his head, nd _holy shit_ … his 'after sex look' was hot enough to make Dean's cock twitch again.  

 

"Sorry," Cas mumbled as he rolled off. "Ugh… Damn it." Dean looked over and laughed at Cas' comical expression of disgust. He'd landed in the sand, and it was sticking to every inch of him.  

 

Cas was attempting to look angry, but Dean could tell he was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. Dean got to his feet and reached out his hand. "Come on, let's get in the water and wash the dirty off," Dean said while raising his eyebrows suggestively. Cas chuckled and let himself be hauled to his feet, and they walked toward the surf. Once they were waist-deep, Dean could see around the rocks. The catamaran was heading in. "We need to hurry, Cas. Our ride is almost here." As they walked out of the sea, Dean had a passing thought about the two of them missing the boat and being stranded out here. A gay Robinson Crusoe. His writer's imagination was already plotting out a story…  

 

They hurriedly picked up the used supplies and the towel and set off at a quick pace. When they came around the rock formation, Cas told him he'd grab his things and meet Dean at the boat. Dean hurried over to where Gabe and Chuck were already dressing. "Dean-o," Gabe called out. Guess you got your man, huh?" Gabe winked at him. Dean picked up his shorts and stepped into them before answering. 

 

"We talked."  

 

Gabe cackled like a chicken on uppers. "Is that what they're calling it these days?" 

 

Dean pulled his shirt on and frowned at Gabe. "I’m not talking about this with you." Gabe gave him an exaggerated pout, and Dean looked at Chuck. "Can’t you keep him on a shorter leash?" 

 

Gabe clapped a little too exuberantly. "Now we're going to talk about _our_ sex life? Oh goody." Thankfully, Chuck whispered something to Gabe and he clamped his mouth shut. Dean really wanted to ask Chuck how he did that, but something told him he was probably better off not knowing.  

 

At the shore, everyone was standing in line to board and Dean saw Cas. He jogged up to wait with him. As he drew nearer to him, Dean suddenly felt nervous. They'd cleared the air _and_ had mind-blowing sex... Why was he freaking out? Dean filed the thought away for later and smiled as he drew nearer to Cas.  

The sex had been great, but seeing Dean smiling and laughing afterward was even better. That was how Castiel knew he was in way over his head. Even as they separated on the beach to dress, Castiel couldn't help watching him walk away. He know knew the feeling of the bowed legs wrapped around him. He knew how that gorgeous ass felt in his hands. "Cassie, put your tongue back in your mouth." Castiel pulled himself out of his trance and blinked at Balthazar. His friend's teasing expression turned serious. "Oh, my God, you are in love." 

 

"Don't be ridiculous, Zar. It's only been a few days." 

 

"I am a true believer in love at first sight. And trust me, you never looked at Fergus the way you're looking at him." Not wanting to argue, Castiel finished dressing and made his way down the beach to the waiting catamaran. Unfortunately, Cole was already there, and Castiel wondered what he could say to the man. Fortunately, he wasn't given the chance. Cole turned his back to him and engaged in a conversation with an older man.  

 

His eyes sought Dean and saw him jogging towards him. "Miss me?" His boyish grin was infectious.  

 

"Yes, those five minutes were the longest in my life," Castiel said dryly. Dean leaned into him, bumping him off balance. Castiel grabbed for Dean's hand to keep himself upright, and he loved how Dean wove his fingers around his own. 

 

The catamaran ride back to the docks seemed to fly by. Castiel and Dean sat with Zar and another couple named Chuck and Gabe. He'd met Gabe by the pool before and found him rather entertaining. The five men chatted amiably and arranged to have dinner together later that evening. 

 

Once on board the ship, Dean and Castiel stopped in the lobby. "I guess we'll just meet at the buffet," Dean suggested. 

 

"Or we could meet in my room first," Castiel countered. Dean gave him a lopsided grin and disappeared into a crowd of other passengers. Castiel found himself humming as he rode the elevator. 

 

After showering and dressing, he calculated the time zone difference in his head and called his general contractor. "Rufus, how is everything going?" 

 

"We're on schedule. You had a few shipments come in, looks like wallpaper and some fixtures for the bathrooms. I stored them in the kitchen. The flooring is down in the dining room, and the plumbing in the bar area is now up to code." 

 

"Thanks, Rufus. I guess I'll see you day after tomorrow." There was a knock on his door, and with the phone still pressed to his ear, he opened it to see Dean looking sexy as hell. He held up his finger and mouthed, “Just a minute." Dean came in and sat down to wait. Castiel couldn't stop his eyes from roaming across Dean's body as he casually propped his feet up on the coffee table.  

 

"I think you'll be able to begin moving the tables back in by Thursday. Reopening is Friday, right?" 

 

"That is correct." Since the dining room was the only part of the restaurant being remodeled, having just a day to move the furnishing back in was doable. He'd have to make sure his staff was notified that it would be all hands on deck to get the bar and dining areas ready for business. "If you have any issues, just send me a text." 

 

"Ten-four, boss. See you Thursday." Castiel set his phone on the nightstand and turned to Dean.  

 

"Sorry, I was just catching up on the remodel." Dean nodded and stood up. He was wearing jeans and a gray button down. Castiel couldn't help but give him a light kiss across his full lips. _And_ _since_ _when did kissing Dean become second nature?_   

 

"That's cool. Everything going according to plan?" Dean asked, his cheeks tinged pink from the kiss. Castiel thought the way Dean blushed was absolutely adorable, but he suspected Dean wouldn't appreciate him saying so. He smiled and answered Dean's question instead.  

 

"Yes, all on schedule, and we'll open up for business again on Friday. You should come," Castiel said and wanted to pull back the words as soon as he said them.  

 

"Really? Are you sure? Won't it be busy as fuck?" Castiel was surprised and relieved to hear the hint of excitement in Dean's voice. 

 

"I always leave a few tables open for friends and celebrities," Castiel answered truthfully. "And speaking of tables, we should go."  

 

Castiel was pulling his door shut when Balthazar opened his. Together, the three of them headed to the buffet. "We should go to the casino after dinner. I feel lucky," Balthazar said as the elevator doors opened. 

 

"That sounds like fun," Dean agreed. Castiel was hoping for a night in with Dean, because the hours were counting down. When the ship docked, real life would begin again. Would whatever it was between them carry over into the day-to-day grind? He was a restauranteur. He worked nights. Dating wasn't something he made room for on a regular basis because it just wasn't practical. Fergus adjusted to his schedule for a time, but after a few months, he was typically asleep when Castiel came home most nights. Dean lived across Lake Pontchartrain and had a life there.  

 

Balthazar elbowed him as they stepped off the elevator and whispered, "Stop overthinking. He likes you." Of course, his friend would read his thoughts… the clever bastard. 

 

Dinner actually turned out to be fun. Between Gabe matching wits with Balthazar, they spent a lot of time exchanging pervy jokes and laughing boisterously. Even though Castiel didn't fully appreciate their lewd humor, the laughter was contagious. Later at the casino, Dean stayed by Castiel's side. They settled in at the blackjack table, and Castiel enjoyed watching Dean's enthusiasm increase with each round. Win or lose, he didn't lose his bright smile. Castiel couldn't help but compare how Fergus would have reacted to losing even a few dollars. How had he ever thought he was in love with that petulant prick? It was a shocking revelation and a startling contrast. Castiel had never met anyone like Dean. The man seemed to naturally radiate so much joy in the simple things, and Castiel loved being around to see it.  

 

Dean yawned, showing his first sign of fatigue. Castiel took his hand and whispered, "Let's go." Dean nodded in agreement, and they said goodnight to their friends.  

 

Back in his cabin, Castiel poured them both a drink and opened the balcony doors. Leaning on the railing, they sipped their drinks while listening to the sound of the ship cutting through the water. They'd spend tomorrow at sea all day and then dock in New Orleans on Thursday. He turned his head to look at Dean's profile. "How is a man like you still single?" 

 

Dean didn't take his eyes off the water. He gave a small shrug and said, "Guess I was waiting for the right person to come along." He took a drink and then straightened to face Castiel. He took Castiel's empty glass and set both on the small table. Stepping into Castiel's personal space, he gave a suggestive wink as he rested his hands on Castiel's waist. "I might be persuaded to let you fuck me outside. These balconies seem pretty private." 

 

Castiel gave him a slow smile before reaching out to unbutton his shirt. He took his time, leaving small kisses on each inch of skin he revealed. Dean was leaning on the rail, his head lolled backwards. He looked like a god in the moonlight, and Castiel dropped to his knees to worship him. He took his time driving Dean to the brink of orgasm only to pull back over and over again. The mewling sounds Dean made each time went straight to Castiel's cock. It made the most primal part of him feel powerful to have this god under his mercy yet again. It turned Castiel on to no end that he was fully dressed while Dean was completely nude, his body taut with the need for release. He placed his hands firmly on Dean's hips and turned him to face the water. Dean spread his legs, and Castiel separated his cheeks to dip into his cleft. "God, Cas..." Dean cried out and slammed his fists down to grasp the railing when Castiel pushed his tongue into Dean's tight hole.  

 

He licked and sucked until Dean was sloppy and wet before inserting one of his fingers alongside his tongue. Dean was rolling his hips slowly, his chest now resting on the railing. With one final kiss to each cheek, Castiel got to his feet and ran his hands over Dean's back. "So beautiful," he murmured. Dropping a kiss on Dean's shoulder, he whispered, "Don't move." 

 

Inside the cabin, he quickly undressed, his eyes fixed on Dean bent over the railing and trying to catch his breath. It was one of the hottest fucking things Castiel had ever seen, and he had to grip his cock to keep from coming right then and there. He got a condom out of the box and picked up the lube. He returned to the balcony. With his empty hand, he ran his fingertips over Dean's flank. Dean trembled under his touch, and Castiel leaned down to leave a trail of kisses along Dean's spine. When he got to his neck, he stopped and sucked at the skin, marking Dean as his. 

 

It took only moments to get Dean ready for him. The man was pliable and relaxed around his fingers. Cas murmured against Dean's ear, "Are you ready, Dean?" 

 

"Yes... God, _yes_ ," Dean said breathlessly. Castiel carefully pulled his fingers out with a twist that made Dean groan, and then ripped open the foil packet. He rolled the condom down his length and squeezed out more lube. He stroked himself and bit his lips to keep from coming at just the sight of Dean's slick hole, open and ready for him. _God,_ _what was this man doing to him?_ He rubbed the head of his cock over Dean's entrance a few times to tease him. When he heard Dean's growl of frustration and desperate _want_ , Castiel pressed his head against Dean's rim. As it breached the tightness, Dean gasped and gripped the railing harder, his knuckles turning white. Castiel slowly stroked his hands up Dean's sides and waited until Dean began to move his hips before easing the rest of the way inside. When he was pressed firmly against Dean's ass, he paused again to wait for Dean's body to adjust. 

 

While he waited, he spread open-mouthed kisses over Dean's shoulders and neck, his hands moving up and down Dean's taut arms. "Okay... I'm okay," Dean said softly.  

 

He moved slowly, in and out, increasing his speed as the minutes ticked by, his thrusts getting harder and faster as Dean urged him on. As he approached climax, he ran his hands across Dean's chest, down his ribcage, palms pressing on his abs, drifting lower and lower. He cupped Dean's balls with one hand and wrapped his other hand around his hard cock. In perfect rhythm with his deeper thrusts, he stroked Dean until he was calling out Cas’ name into the night. He felt the man’s hot release on his hands as Dean's body gripped him like a vise. "Dean..." He whispered reverently as his muscles tightened to the point of blissful agony before he emptied himself into Dean, his orgasm rolling over him like a tidal wave. 

 

They remained fixed in place, Castiel pressed against Dean's back, until they resurfaced from their euphoria and their breathing returned to normal. Castiel gently eased out of Dean and removed the condom. He wandered inside to dispose of it in the bathroom, and when he returned, Dean was sprawled across his bed, hand propped behind his head. "You look damn good in my bed." 

 

Dean's smile was tentative, his expressive eyes wary, but hopeful. "Can I stay?" Castiel answered him by crawling into bed and pulling the comforter over them, wrapping them in warmth. He drew himself closer to Dean's side, rested his hand on Dean's stomach, and closed his eyes. As he drifted off, a smile of contentment played across Castiel's lips.   

 

                                                    

 


	8. Chapter 8

Dean woke and for an instant, he wondered where he was. The heavy thigh across his legs and the warmth at his back gave him his first clue. _Cas_. He smiled, remembering Cas fucking into him on the balcony. He lay quietly thinking about the events of the previous day. A gentle kiss on his shoulder let him know Cas was awake. "Morning." 

 

"Good morning, Dean," Cas' already gravelly voice was husky with sleep and Dean loved the sound. He could get used to waking up to Cas every morning for the rest of his... _whoa_. Is that really what he wanted? Sure, Sam and Mari were perfect for each other, and he had no doubts that they were in it for the long haul. But him? In his experience, his partners didn't usually stand by him during the bad times… and he'd had plenty. Thinking of Cas that way made his heart rate skyrocket, from both the thrill and the fear of it. Cas yawned behind him, pulling him back from his mild case of panic. His fingers caressed lightly over Dean's hip. Dean felt Cas' cock stirring to life against his ass.  

 

"Someone's horny this morning," he said, wiggling his hips. Cas pulled back and swatted Dean on the butt. Dean squeaked in surprise, and until the day he dies, he will deny making that sound. Cas, however, began to laugh. "Asshole," Dean muttered.  

 

Cas rolled over on top of him and kissed Dean's pouted lips. "Aww, come on, don't be like that." 

 

"Leave me alone. I'm not in the mood anymore," Dean huffed. He knew the whole effect would have been better if he was able to cross his arms, but Cas' chest was pressed against his own. Instead, he turned his head to the side, lips poking out just a little for emphasis.  

 

Cas bounced off him and threw his legs off the bed, giving Dean a view of his gorgeous back. It happened in an instant, and Dean immediately missed the warmth of Cas' body. "I was going to suggest that you fuck me this morning, but since you aren't in the mood..." Cas moved to stand and Dean tackled him, sending them both rolling off the bed and onto the floor. "Ow," Cas grumbled, caught under Dean's full body weight. When he moved to let Cas up, Dean's hand skimmed over Cas' ribs and he erupted in a fit of giggles. Dean couldn't help himself and did it again. "Stop.” Cas gasped through laughter. “It tickles.” And so began an exhausting tickling match that ended abruptly when someone banged on the wall. They managed to look a little guilty before the laughing started again, this time a bit quieter. It was Dean's stomach growling that broke them apart.  

 

Since the shower was barely big enough for one grown man, let alone two, it was agreed that Dean would go to his cabin to get ready for breakfast. They would meet by the wave pool in thirty minutes.  

 

In his cabin, Dean showered and pulled out his favorite pair of underwear. He looked into the mirror, adjusted his cock and growled at his reflection. "Looking good, Winchester."  He winked at himself and finished getting dressed. It occurred to him that despite the way he wrote his characters, Dean hadn't felt this confident in himself for as long as he could remember. He couldn't help thinking Cas had something to do with that. It was strange that someone he just met could have such a strong effect on him. 

 

Cas was watching some early morning surfers when Dean arrived on deck. "You should try that," Dean suggested. Cas gave him a 'yeah, not in this lifetime' look and pushed him playfully towards the entrance to the buffet. While Cas was particular about his food, Dean attacked it voraciously, stacking his plate high with a wide variety. When they met at their table, Cas gave his choices a look of overt disgust. 

 

"Dean, you cannot possibly eat all that. It's a heart attack on a plate. I can feel my arteries hardening just looking at it."  

 

Dean studied Cas' plate for a moment. "Well, your plate is full of hippy new-age hipster shit. I hope you serve better food at your restaurant. Please tell me it isn't just fruits and nuts." 

 

"I serve healthy food, Dean." Dean opened his mouth to scoff, but Cas' scathing look shut him up. "We have steaks and seafood. You don't have to fry everything for it to be good." He poked at Dean's fried potatoes with his fork to prove his point. Dean slid his plate closer to protect it from Cas' judgment and condemnation.  

 

"Grease helps with digestion. Everyone knows that, Cas." 

 

"God, you act like an old married couple," Gabe said from behind Dean. He had a full plate of pancakes slathered in syrup. Chuck, standing beside him, held only a bowl of plain oatmeal. _What the fuck?_ Maybe mixed marriages can work. _Not that anyone here was married or anything_. His thoughts of waking with Cas every morning popped back into his head, and he pushed them aside as fast as he could. Without asking, the other couple sat down at their table. Gabe spread out, seeming to take up more space than everyone else despite being the smallest man at the table. "So what’s on the agenda today? Surfing in the wave pool? Shuffleboard? Sunbathing? Karaoke? Dance lessons? A movie? The spa?" 

 

"What are you, the cruise director?" Dean asked, spearing a strawberry from Cas' plate and popping it in his mouth.  

 

"No, the uniform made my ass look big," Gabe retorted. Chuck looked at his partner fondly… the same way Cas looked at Dean a few minutes ago. Sure, he made fun of Dean's food choices, but the teasing was... _awesome_.      

 

"Dean, what do you want to do?" Cas' question was said in a tone that told Dean he valued his input. Dean's first inclination was to say _'you’_ but thought better of it.  

 

"Since it’s our last day, I thought I'd like to do something relaxing. I don't know... maybe lay by the pool or get a massage." He'd never had a professional massage before. It might be kind of nice.  

 

"Guess we’ll leave you two lovebirds alone then," Chuck said before Gabe could plan out the day for them. Gabe frowned a bit, but Dean was grateful. He truly liked the couple, but it was their last day at sea. And as much as he wanted his and Cas' relationship to go beyond the ship, a part of him was still scared Cas would decide that he wasn't worth it. He wanted to make the most of whatever time they had left together.  

 

They finished eating, and the other couple left them with promises to meet up later for dinner and drinks.  

 

 

Castiel was terrified. With Fergus, they fell into a relationship because they knew the same people and ran in the same circles. Dean... well, Dean was different. He made Castiel laugh. Had Fergus ever made him laugh? Dean didn't mind being silly and allowing himself to have fun. Fergus would have absolutely hated Dean.  

 

As Gabe and Chuck walked off, Castiel came to a decision. "Dean, can we go for a walk?"  

 

"A walk? Cas, you realize we are on a ship in the middle of the ocean, right?" Dean's expression was like that of a teacher with an idiot for a student. 

 

"We can walk around the deck, Dean," he said a bit more testily than he meant. This was an important conversation and Castiel's nerves were very close to the surface. Dean must have picked up on it, because he stood up. 

 

"Sure, Cas, whatever you want," Dean said quietly. Needing to reassure Dean somehow, Castiel took his hand and laced their fingers together. Dean glanced at the gesture and smiled softly. Castiel led him out of the restaurant and over to the railing. He set an easy pace and Dean walked beside him. When they reached the stern, Castiel began to speak. "A couple of years ago, I met someone. We dated for a time, and then we moved in together. I thought I loved him." Castiel continued to talk and Dean just listened. He told Dean how rejected and foolish he felt when Fergus left him without a word. He felt Dean's thumb moving softly over his knuckles, back and forth, grounding him. "And that’s why this... whatever it is between us... it scares me, Dean." 

 

Dean looked out over the water for a long time before speaking. "I'm scared too, Cas. I'm not good with relationships. The longest I was with someone was a year, and that didn't exactly end well." Dean turned to him then. "I'm not gonna lie to you, Cas. I want someone to come home to at the end of the day. I'm not looking for a short-term arrangement. I get that you've been hurt – and he was a stupid motherfucker to leave you, by the way – but I want..." He paused, and it seemed to Castiel like he was gathering his courage. "...I want commitment." Dean looked down at his feet. "Wow, I haven't talked about feelings in a long time. It's kind of painful and… yeah, it sucks ass." Dean snorted a laugh. 

 

"I appreciate your honesty, Dean. I just don't know if..." Dean shook his head, and Castiel stopped. 

 

"No promises. I get that. Life doesn't come with guarantees. I guess what I'm trying to say is that if we’re going to do this, then I'm not going to see anyone else, and… I need that to be the same for you." 

 

"That is one promise I can definitely make, Dean. I don't cheat. As long as we are together, there will be no others in my life." Dean released his breath and looked back up at him. 

 

"Okay, enough of the chick flick shit. Let's get our suits on and roast under the hot sun. I need to have a good tan or Sammy will sign me up for some other dumb-ass contest." Dean smiled and Cas felt his heart skip a beat at how beautiful the man was when he smiled. 

 

They parted when the elevator opened on Castiel's deck. He pulled Dean into his arms and kissed him softly. "Come to my cabin and we'll head up together." Dean nodded and gave him a small wave before the doors shut. Cas leaned on the wall and stared at his reflection in the shiny metal wall. "You, my friend, are in way over your head." Before he walked away, he glanced back at himself and said, “He might be worth it.” He smiled to himself as he walked back to his room to get changed.  

 

He took a red bikini out of the drawer and tossed it on the bed. He hurriedly got out of his clothes and folded them. He'd put them on again later. After he donned the swimsuit, he looked in the mirror. Not bad for a forty-year-old. He patted his taut stomach. Tossing his book and his sunscreen into his bag, he sat down to wait. Castiel took the time to reflect on the conversation he'd had with Dean. He could tell it was difficult for Dean to put his feelings out there, and he was surprised to discover that it made him care for the man even more.  

 

The knock startled him out of his musings and he hurried to open the door. Dean stood in a pair of white, black and yellow board shorts. He smirked, looking Cas up and down. "You sure don't have a problem showing off your junk, do you?" 

 

Castiel looked down at the skimpy suit. "Zar says this is cruise attire. I've seen others wearing less, Dean. Are you offended?" 

 

"Hell no. I'm just not as liberated as you are." Dean brought his eyes back to Castiel's face.  

 

"Should I change?" He made a mental list of his choices. The white one was basically transparent when wet, and the black Speedo wasn't much better than this one. Back home, he didn't have much need for bathing suits and Balthazar had helped him pick these out. It wasn't like he was inhibited, nor was he an exhibitionist. He honestly thought this was normal for a cruise, and by the looks of the other passengers, he was correct.  

 

"No..." Dean shrugged and shouldered his backpack. "I like being seen with someone who looks that hot in a scrap of cloth. Actually, I’m a little worried I won't be able to keep myself from jumping your bones every time I look at you in that." Dean winked and flashed a wicked grin. Castiel rolled his eyes and smiled before pushing Dean out the door. He closed it behind them, and they headed for the pool. 

 

Finding two chaise lounges close together, the two men set down their stuff and got comfortable. "Want me to do your back?" Dean's question was accompanied by a comical leer. 

 

"If you insist," Castiel answered with a sigh, presenting his back to Dean. The lotion was cool, but Dean's hands warmed it quickly enough. Castiel let his head fall forward. Dean was giving him more of a massage than an application of sunscreen. It was _heavenly_ , and Castiel couldn't suppress a groan of pleasure. When Dean’s fingers dipped into the waistband of Castiel's suit, he turned his head and quirked an eyebrow at Dean. 

 

"What? Just making sure your ass doesn't burn. That could be painful and..." Dean leaned forward and put his mouth to Castiel's ear, lowering his voice. "...since I plan to fuck that ass later, I want it to burn after, not before." Castiel closed his eyes as his higher brain function completely abandoned him. Dean licked around the back of his ear and nipped at the lobe and continued, "Does that make you hot, Cas? Does it make you want me? Are you imagining my cock sliding into your gorgeous... tight..." 

 

"Stop," Castiel growled. Somehow, Dean managed to make his grin look cocky and innocent at the same time.  

 

"Maybe you need to cool off, Cas. The water looks nice." The man actually patted his ass to punctuate his suggestion. Like _that_ would help the situation… _the bastard_. 

 

 

"I'm fine," Cas said stiffly, and Dean loved seeing that his words had such an effect on Cas' cock. While he wasn't fully hard, he was definitely interested. That skimpy suit showcased his junk perfectly and left nothing to the imagination. Dean would never wear something like that out in public, but he enjoyed seeing it on Cas. 

 

Just to tease him a little more, Dean let his still slick hand dip low into Cas' crack. "I need to get wet and cool off," Cas said, surging to his feet. Dean was still grinning as he watched Cas dive into the pool. He stood as well and followed him. He wasn't usually this frisky, but Cas had a way of drawing him out and making him feel more playful… even _happy_. Stepping up to the edge of the pool, he waited until Cas came up for air before diving in beside him. He swam underwater for the length of the pool and surfaced. Cas met him in the middle of the pool. He wrapped his legs around Dean and pressed his chest against his. "You are a cocktease, Mr. Winchester." 

 

"But you like me," Dean responded, holding onto Cas' thighs with strong hands.  

 

"I do." Suddenly the teasing ceased. Dean met Cas' eyes and held them, frozen and unable to look away. His lips smashed against Cas' hard enough to bruise. Cas groaned and parted his lips, allowing Dean entry. Dean's cock stirred, and he could feel Cas' arousal in turn. The kiss became a play for dominance, and Cas' fingers pulled at Dean's hair. "Want you..." Cas growled in Dean's ear as he held Dean's hair in an unyielding grasp. 

 

"Need you..." Dean countered, his voice breaking with desperation. Someone splashed into the water near them and pulled them out of their sexual haze. He pulled back from the kiss and pressed their foreheads together. "God... _damn it_..." He blew out a breath and laughed softly. "What is it about you, man?" 

 

"I'm hot." At Dean's narrowed gaze, Cas added, "You said so yourself." 

 

"Yeah, that must be it then." Only it wasn't. Dean knew it wasn't only Cas' body he wanted, no, he needed his mind and soul as well.  

 

"I won't be able to get out of the pool for a few minutes," Cas said placidly. At Dean's questioning look, Cas took Dean's hand and pressed it against his hard length. Dean let his hand stay, eyes closing, as he tried to will away his own erection. "And unless you remove your hand, I'm afraid we'll be here all day."  

 

"Oh, yeah..." Dean reluctantly took his hand away, and Cas lowered his legs to stand. Dean was mesmerized by the droplets of water on Cas' dark eyelashes. His eyes drifted down to his full lips, and when Cas' tongue peeked out to lick them, Dean ran his fingers through his hair and growled in frustration. "I think a nap is called for before lunch, don't you?" 

 

Cas' smile lit up his face. "If ‘nap’ is a euphemism for sex, then I agree. A nap sounds just fine to me. Could you get out and bring a towel over to the steps?" Understanding dawned on Dean. Cas was still sporting a hard-on. Then of course, so was Dean… but his choice of bathing suit did a better job of hiding it. Dean nodded and turned to swim to the edge, but before he could propel himself forward, Cas gripped his wrist. Dean turned back to face him. "Go to your room and pack your things, Dean. I don't want to... be without you..." The last three words were said in a way that made Dean understand that they had been difficult for Cas to say. He nodded once in agreement and gave Cas a soft smile.  

 

Swimming to the edge, Dean lifted himself out of the pool and grabbed a towel for Cas. Cas knotted it around his waist as he exited the pool. They picked up their things without speaking, and Dean headed for his room without looking back. It didn't mean anything… not really. It wasn't like Cas was asking him to move to New Orleans and live with him. It was one night. _One lousy night_. And he'd already spent last night with him. So, _see_? Not a big deal at all. 

 

In the cabin, he slid off his wet suit and let it fall to the floor. He toweled off and put his clothes from the morning back on. Dragging his luggage out of the small closet, the emptied the drawers and stuffed his things unceremoniously into the suitcase. In the bathroom, he shoved everything into his shaving kit and wrung out the board shorts before wrapping them in a towel. It took him a few minutes to make sure his document was saved before shutting down his laptop. With one last look around, Dean picked up his things and walked purposefully down the hall to the elevators. _It wasn't a big deal_. 

 

Hesitating outside of Cas' room, he let his mind think about sex. Sex would take his mind off the powerful urge he had to contemplate how deep his feelings for Cas were. It wasn't _love_. Lust, yeah, but love didn't happen in four days. Sex it was then. He knocked and Cas opened the door. He was naked except for the towel around his waist. Dean dropped his stuff inside the door and kicked it closed. Yeah, he could handle this. His hands undid the knot, and the towel fell to the floor. Cas reached down and cupped his balls before letting his fingers trail along his length. At the tip, he ran his thumb over the slit and brought the bed of precum up to his lips, his eyes never leaving Dean's. Dean's lips parted and exhaled a soft, "Oh, God." 

 

"You seem to be wearing too many clothes, Dean." Cas turned and walked to the bed. There was something off about... _holy shit_... the cleft of Cas' ass was slick. Had he... "I hope you don't mind, but I started without you," Cas said as he crawled on the bed and rolled over on his back. When he spread his legs, Dean zeroed in on his puckered entrance. It was wet and open, just waiting for Dean's cock. 

 

Dean quickly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. As was his habit when he was nervous, he relied on humor. He pushed the edges aside and showed Cas his underwear. Cas leaned up on his elbows and tilted his head sideways. "What is..." 

 

"Rawwr," Dean tried for his best bear imitation. Cas' eyes crinkled at the corners and he laughed out loud. Dean grinned. He pushed his pants down to mid-thigh so Cas could get the full effect. The Ethicka briefs were comfortable and had become a favorite after Mari had given him the tiger for Christmas the year before. While the front showed a growling bear, the back was a rambling creek surrounded by fall foliage. They were completely ridiculous and totally _awesome_. 

 

"I will never be able to unsee that, Dean."  

 

"Good thing, I want you to remember this moment forever." He'd been teasing, but he watched Cas' expression change before his eyes.  

 

"I think I will." His voice sounded husky and low and made the hair on Dean's arms stand on end. He didn't think he'd ever undressed faster. Cas reached up and took his hand to pull him down. Their bodies pressed together, Cas cupped Dean's jaw and moved his lips softly over his face… the corners of his mouth, the tip of his nose, each closed eye. Dean felt worshiped and maybe, _just maybe_ , he fell in love right then and there. 

 

Their bodies moved together like a dance that had been orchestrated between them. Dean loved the powerful feeling of taking Cas in his hand and reducing him to needy moans. Cas' mouth moved between his nipples, never leaving one neglected for very long. There was no need to talk; their fingertips and mouths communicated their desires. When the time came, Dean eased into Cas like he had always belonged there. Cas' eyes met his and he nodded. Dean held his arms straight, hands on each side of Cas' head. He wanted to watch Cas, and he knew he'd never tire of drowning in the depths of those ocean blue eyes.  

 

 _So…_ _this was making love._  

 

They moved together in sync, their bodies in perfect rhythm. Cas' hips lifted to meet each of Dean's deep thrusts. They were in no hurry and lost all sense of time as they gazed into each other's eyes... maybe it was minutes, maybe hours. Cas breathed the word _'please'_ as he clutched Dean's shoulders and begged for more, and Dean came completely undone. His pace quickened and he felt the fire ignite in his belly. Dean leaned down to Cas’ ear and whispered, "Touch yourself, Cas," his arms trembling with the effort to keep himself steady. Cas' lips parted as he reached his hand down between them. Dean felt the brush of Cas' knuckles against his stomach as he stroked himself toward completion.  

 

Dean considered himself a good lover… a considerate lover, but he couldn't remember ever watching someone's face as they tumbled over the edge. Cas' skin was flushed and his eyes widened, never once breaking eye contact with Dean. He was breathing hard, and at the exact moment it happened, his mouth opened in a silent scream, his head thrown back... and _God_ , it was the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen. Dean fucked Cas through his orgasm and then sped up to chase his own release. " _CasCasCasCas_..." Dean chanted softly as his muscles stiffened before he spilled into Cas. Blinking back the sudden wetness in his eyes, Dean gently pulled out and collapsed into Cas’ arms. He closed his eyes and felt Cas' fingers seek out his own. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the infamous underwear from JibCon made it into this chapter.


	9. Chapter 9

Lying in a sex induced haze, Castiel concentrated on the movement of the ship. From his deck, the motion was barely detectable.  

 

"Time is it?" Dean mumbled next to him. Using the least amount of muscles as possible, Castiel reached blindly for the nightstand. He fumbled around until he put his hand on his phone. He brought it in front of his face and squinted. He was seriously going to have to think about reading glasses, _fuck_ getting older. 

 

"Quarter to twelve." 

 

"Lunch time," Dean crowed happily. 

 

"You do realize we just ate about three hours ago?" 

 

Dean rolled over, propping himself up on one elbow. "It's a cruise, Cas. Twenty-four hour buffets. A midnight chocolate bar... damn, I haven't checked that out yet... wonder if they have a chocolate fountain? We could always head back to the pool for a little while if you promise not to try and seduce me again. I can possibly wait another hour before I starve to death." 

 

"I think there is little chance of that," Castiel said dryly. Dean's pout was so adorable, Castiel kissed it. Dean playfully pushed him away. 

 

"You saying I'm fat, Cas?" Castiel skimmed his knuckles over Dean's stomach. 

 

"Not in the least, Dean. I just don't believe one can starve to death in a few hours."  

 

"Yeah, well, I have needs, Cas. And right now, food is at the top of my list." Castiel watched him roll out of bed and start rummaging through his bag. His eyes swept over Dean's body. If this thing they had between them didn't work out, how could he possibly settle for anyone else? It wasn't just his body or his beautiful face. No, it was so much more… the easy way he talked and the effortless way he could make Castiel laugh. Those were the things he would miss the most. Dean turned to face him. "You getting up, or what?"  

 

"If I must," Castiel said, trying his best to sound put out. With a dramatic sigh that caused Dean to roll his eyes, Castiel got up and retrieved his red bikini from where he'd slung it over the shower rod. Dean, meanwhile, was pulling on his still-damp board shorts. He shivered from the combination of wet fabric and air conditioning. His nipples hardened and chill bumps appeared on his arms. Castiel couldn't resist tweaking one of the tantalizing buds as he strode by. Dean's squeal was priceless. His retaliation was to swat Castiel's ass with the towel his shorts had been wrapped in. Castiel hit him with a pillow that had wound up on the floor after their lovemaking. Another five minutes of playing had both men breathing heavily. They decided on a truce so they could at least make it out of the room in one piece.  

 

As he closed the door behind them, Castiel thought about how good it made him feel to just be silly with Dean. Standing in the hall waiting for the elevator, Castiel took Dean's hand. "In my old life, with Fergus, I didn't laugh much," he said the words softly, looking down at the floor. Dean squeezed his hand but refrained from speaking, perhaps sensing Castiel wasn't finished. "With you… your silliness... I could never do that." 

 

"Never?" Dean looked at him with something close to pity in his eyes. 

 

"Once, on a rare night home together, I was cooking dinner. He came into the kitchen, and I was feeling playful so I smeared spaghetti sauce across his cheek. I thought it was funny and would make him laugh. He didn't laugh…" Castiel paused, remembering that night. Fergus had grabbed his wrist, anger flashing in his cold eyes. "He told me to grow up. He said I was disgusting." The last word was barely a whisper. Something had changed in their relationship that night. Castiel learned to be quiet and respectful, and _never_ silly. He'd honestly forgotten about it until now… or maybe he'd just buried the painful memory deep inside.  

 

The elevator door opened then, and thankfully it was empty, because Dean pulled him into the car. He drew Castiel into his arms, holding him close. "That son of a bitch," Dean spat, his words hard. He leaned back and met Castiel's eyes. "You listen to me, Cas. _He's_ the one who was fucked up. You? God, Babe, you are so fucking _perfect_. I could fall..." He stopped abruptly and closed his eyes to hide from Castiel's penetrating gaze.  

 

"Me too," he whispered. He wasn't stupid. There could be only one way to finish that sentence. If Dean wasn't ready to say it, so be it. Dean's eyes flew open. Castiel simply nodded, and Dean backed off a few inches, neither of them ready to face the unspoken words. _Not yet…_  

 

Hand in hand, they strolled to the pool and dragged two chaises together. Dean threw up his hand in a wave and Castiel followed his gaze. Gabe and Chuck were sitting on bar stools under the tiki hut that served as a bar. "You want something to drink?" Castiel smiled and felt his heart warm at having someone take care of him for a change. 

 

"Yes, thank you, Dean." Castiel leaned back on the lounger and watched Dean walk to the bar. Those bowed legs would star in many fantasies to come. He returned with two red concoctions, complete with tiny umbrellas speared through a sliver of pineapple as a garnish. Dean settled in the chaise next to Castiel's and handed him one of the drinks. Castiel took a tentative sip that tasted of rum and a mixture of fruit juices. He didn't usually care for fruity drinks, but it wasn't bad. 

 

Not wanting to dwell on what _wasn't_ said in the elevator, Castiel instead decided to indulge his curiosity about Dean's alter-ego. He peppered Dean with questions about the real life of D.R. Winchester. Dean was relaxed and open as he shared stories about some awkward moments with fans, the trials and tribulations of dealing with demanding publishers, and how he bounced ideas off his sister-in-law. 

 

"I'm actually reading _Chance of a Lifetime_ right now," Castiel confessed. Dean stared at him blankly before grinning. 

 

"Since you knew who D.R. Winchester was, I figured you'd read one or two. How do you like it?" 

 

"I'd do Jared," Castiel said with a wink. "I bet he could pick me up and fuck me against the wall." Dean laughed like Castiel knew he would. "What are you working on now? If you can’t share before it's published, I understand. I'm just curious." He couldn't mention how those few words he allowed himself to indulge in while snooping on Dean's laptop had peaked his interest.   

 

"I just started a new one. It's about this hot Russian guy who’s a diplomat and this dude from Texas who owns a brewery. They totally hate each other at first, and there's going to be lots of angry sex. Of course, they'll fall in love eventually. It's still in the beginning stages," he finished, seeming suddenly embarrassed. Castiel didn’t understand how a writer as talented as Dean could ever be ashamed of bragging about himself. 

 

"Dean, your books are great. You have a huge fan base, including _me_. I've read most of them."  

 

Dean picked at his fingernail, eyes downcast. "Yeah?" 

 

" _Yes_ ," Castiel declared. He saw Dean's bashful smile and _damn_ , the man was adorable. They fell into a comfortable silence. Castiel must have dozed off because the next thing he knew, he was startled awake by cold water on his sun-warmed skin. " _Fuck..._ Shit..." He surged off the lounge to Dean's delighted laughter. "Dean, you asshole. _You will pay for that_ ," he threatened ominously as he stood and took a step toward the grinning man. He noticed Dean was wet and assumed he'd gone swimming while Castiel slept.  

 

"Don't be mad, Cas. You've been sleeping for twenty minutes and I'm hungry." The pretty pout made him want to push Dean to his knees right then and there. He reached out and grabbed Dean's arm, hauling him roughly against his chest. Castiel's jaw was as hard as steel, the glint in his eyes bright with lust. In his most domineering voice, he growled, "You have the prettiest cocksucking lips, and I fully intend to put them to use after we eat." Dean’s eyes widened and he licked his lips hungrily. 

 

" _Cas_... Jesus... you can't just say that shit." Castiel held his steely gaze and lifted one eyebrow. "Damn it, stop looking at me like that. You're making me hard as fuck, dude." 

 

Dean's sex life had always been satisfying and despite what he wrote in his books, it tended to lean toward vanilla. Vanilla with the occasional chocolate sauce and sprinkles, but still vanilla nonetheless. Cas… he wasn’t like anyone Dean had ever known. The man was sexier than D.R. Winchester’s wildest plots and had Dean's mind whirling with fantasies that would never have occurred to him before. He knew enough about Dom/sub dynamics, but he would never have imagined the idea of him being submissive to _anyone_ would almost make him come in his fucking pants. When Cas lowered his voice and did that whole dominant eyebrow thing, Dean's stomach went on a roller coaster ride that was thrilling as hell. He was tempted to drop to his knees and lower his head in submission on pure instinct alone. _Wait, s_ _eriously, what the fuck?_ _Get it together, Winchester…_   

 

After a considerable effort to collect himself, Dean led the way to the dining room for lunch. As they ate, he kept Cas talking about his restaurant and what it was like to go to school to become a chef. Dean was fascinated at the drive and determination Cas must have had to become so successful on his own. When Cas got up to go get some fruit for dessert-- yes, _fruit_ \--Dean thought back to Cas' confession about the asshole he'd lived with... _Fergus_. Jeez, what kind of name was Fergus? A pretentious cum-dumpster, twat-waffle name, that's what. If Cas lived with Dean, their house would be filled with joy and laughter and kids... _Whoa_. Shit, no need to get carried away there, Winchester. Cas saved him from his wayward thoughts by sitting down with a plate heaped with slices of pineapple, mango, and other assorted healthy crap. 

 

They were seated at a table protected by a large umbrella on the stern of the ship. Dean glanced out at the ocean and the churning water from the huge propellers. Dean couldn't help comparing them to his own thoughts, churning and spinning incessantly. They were heading back to New Orleans. In less than twenty-four hours, Sam and Mari would be meeting him at the docks to take him home to Abita Springs. "Am I still invited to The Delta on Friday?" The question just spewed out of his mouth. He'd promised himself he would wait for Cas to bring it up and if he didn't… well, Dean would understand. But here he was asking about it anyway in spite of his vow of restraint... 

 

Cas paused with his fork, speared with a strawberry, halfway to his mouth. "Of course, Dean. I'll have to check the books when I get home to see when I can get you a table, but I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't mean it. Will you be bringing anyone?" The question was innocent enough, but after their conversation about not cheating, Dean's hackles raised. 

 

"Dude, I said I wouldn't be seeing anyone else. What kind of douche to you think I am?" When Cas' lips twitched like he was trying to rein in a smile, Dean realized he'd jumped the gun a bit. "Oh, you meant someone like Sammy, huh?" 

 

The smile was obvious now. "Yes, Dean. I meant your brother and his wife." And there it was… that indulgent look just like the one Chuck gave Gabe. It said, ‘you stupid idiot, it's a good thing I lo- like you.’ 

 

Feeling more relaxed, Dean sat back and rubbed his full belly. "I think I have a food baby," he said, pooching out his stomach and pouting.  

 

Cas huffed out a breath and stood up. Holding out his hand, he leaned in and whispered, "Then I suggest we go back to the cabin and do some exercise." 

 

"I think I might grow to love exercising," Dean replied with a grin, taking Cas' hand. It didn't take long to get back to Cas' cabin, and before the door was even closed, Dean found himself pressed against it. He felt Cas' fingers ghosting over his throat, and he tilted his head back to open himself to whatever Cas wanted. Cas' mouth was brutal, nips and hard-sucking bruises that left Dean gasping for air and his own hands splayed across Cas' back, nails digging into hard flesh.  

 

"I want you..." Cas groaned, his breath ragged. He placed his hands on Dean's shoulders and applied pressure. Dean needed no urging. He dropped to his knees and stared at the thick outline of Cas' cock in the small bathing suit. The tip was poking out of the waistband, refusing to be contained. Dean whimpered at the sight. Using both hands, he pulled the bikini down, allowing the hard shaft to spring free. It jutted forward as if begging for Dean's mouth. He tucked the elastic band under Cas' heavy sack and admired his handiwork. His eyes drifted north. Cas' eyes were on him, his teeth, barely visible, biting down on his bottom lip. With a wink, Dean moved forward and licked a short, wet path over Cas' balls, swirling small circles over the surface as he went. "De-Dean," Cas cried out brokenly. Dean was going to enjoy this. Cas might play the part of the dominant partner, but right now, Dean was in charge and he planned to take Cas apart until he was begging for mercy. 

 

He licked and nuzzled Cas' balls, inhaling his scent, the dark thatch of hair tickling his nose. Mouthing them one at a time, drawing them into his mouth and flicking them with his tongue, only to release them seconds later. They were slick with his spit and he palmed them, squeezing and pulling down just enough to give pleasure, not pain. His hands moved upward, thumbs pressing along the crevices at the top of muscular thighs, then wrapping his fingers around the base of Cas' cock. The head was dark with the increased blood flow and a tiny trail of pre-cum ended at the bottom of the glans. Dean opened his mouth wide and slowly ran his teeth up the sides of Cas’ cock, licking as he went, then gave the head an open-mouthed kiss when he reached the top. He looked into Cas’ eyes as he swallowed every drop of pre-cum, enjoying the taste and the view. He tightened his grip as he teased the slit with his tongue, enjoying the strangled gasps coming from Cas. Taking his sweet time, he used his hands and his skillful mouth to slowly drive Cas out of his fucking mind. 

 

As Cas drew closer to the edge, Dean kept his eyes locked on Cas' increasingly unfocused gaze. Dean moved his hands to hold the top of Cas thighs, and he felt them trembling. He hollowed his cheeks and took Cas all the way down his throat, tightening his grip on Cas' muscular thighs. Cas lost all control as he let out a filthy moan and grabbed Dean's head, both hands tightening in his hair as he started fucking Dean's mouth with short, shallow thrusts. Dean relaxed his jaw and took it, then he dug his fingers into Cas' ass and pulled him forward to show he could handle more. “ _Fuuuuuuuuck_ _,_ ” Cas cried out and he began thrusting mercilessly down Dean's throat.  

 

" _Dean_... _I'm_ \--" That was all the warning he got.  

 

Hot, thick cum shot down this throat and Dean fought hard to swallow it all. He let Cas' cock rest in his mouth, still savoring the experience. As it slowly softened, Dean drew back, swiping his tongue around the tip once more before leaning back on his heels. Cas had his eyes closed and was leaning heavily against the door, trying to get his breathing under control. Dean hooked his fingers in the waistband of Cas' swimsuit and adjusted it back in place, giving his balls a soft pat once they were covered again. "Am I forgiven?" 

 

Cas slowly opened one eye. "For what?"  

 

Dean laughed and stood up. He kissed Cas’ slack mouth. "It's good to know that when I give you head, you forget to be mad at me." 

 

"I promise, _that_ will always improve my mood." Cas rolled his head, popping the kinks out of his neck, then pulled Dean close. His mouth closed over Dean's and he parted his lips for Cas' tongue. He moaned as Cas' hand strayed to the front of his shorts. "Let me see if I can help with this," Cas said as he rubbed up and down Dean's shaft, the damp material giving the act enough friction to be just short of painful. He bucked his hips, wanting more. "What do you need, Dean?" 

 

"Hand... mouth... don't fucking care," Dean mumbled against Cas' mouth. He felt the slide of the material being pushed down his legs. Cas looked straight into Dean's eyes, set his jaw firmly, and held his hand up to Dean's mouth. “Lick,” he commanded. Without hesitation, Dean obediently ran his tongue across the hand until it was wet with his spit. Cas lowered his hand and wrapped his fingers possessively around Dean's throbbing cock, never once breaking eye contact. Dean whimpered and felt his knees go weak. "Cas... God... _yes_..." Dean whispered. Cas stroked him hard and fast, rendering Dean completely helpless in the face of his dominance. When he came, his vision blackened and he had to hold on to Cas' shoulders to stay upright. Thankfully, Cas half-carried him to the bed, and he collapsed onto his back, mumbling incoherent words and panting with satisfaction. Cas retrieved two bottles of water from the mini-fridge and handed one to Dean. He held it against his forehead for a few moments before he slowly sat up, unscrewed the cap, and gulped half of it down. "What do you want to do now?" 

 

 

Dean should have looked ridiculous with his shorts down around his knees, sprawled on top of the bed like a mutated starfish. Anyone else would have, but not him. Still flushed from his orgasm, hair sticking up in every direction from Castiel's hands, he looked absolutely beautiful. After handing him the water, Cas sat down next to him. "You mentioned mini-golf. We could..." 

 

"Fuck yeah. I will wipe the greens with you and that sexy ass of yours,” Dean said. Castiel smirked and raised his eyebrows. 

 

"Competitive much, Dean?" 

 

"Maybe," Dean said, his eyes posing a challenge. Castiel was never one to walk away from a challenge. 

 

"Let's get dressed... and Dean? May the best man win."  

 

"You're on, Sweet Cheeks." Gauntlet thrown, the two men hurried to dress in shorts and t-shirts. Castiel was seeing yet another side of Dean, and while it was different, it wasn't bad. It amused him more than anything. 

 

Minutes later, they were choosing their putters from the tall bucket next to the small course. Dean picked up a blue ball and tossed Castiel a pink one. Castiel caught it and didn't comment on the color. He pointedly left out the fact that he was on the golf team in college. He was surprised to find that the course wasn't crowded. Dean pulled a quarter out of his pocket and held it up. "Call it." 

 

"Heads," Castiel purred and gave a pointed look to Dean's crotch. Dean ignored it and tossed the coin into the air, only to catch it and slap it on the back of his hand. By his frown, Castiel knew he'd be going first. He teed up and after squinting at the hole a few seconds, putted. His ball rolled easily down the green, past the tropical plants and the decorative cannon. It stopped two inches from his target. With one more gentle tap, the ball went in. "That's par for me," he said sweetly. Dean mumbled something under his breath and used the stubby pencil to write down Castiel's score. 

 

Placing his ball on the tee, Dean took his stance, wiggled his hips and swung. It bounced off the side of the green and rolled back towards Dean. Castiel bit his lip to keep from laughing. Dean stomped over to the ball, now a mere foot from the start. He hit the ball and it shot off down the course, collided with the cannon, coming to a stop a foot away from the hole. Without a word, his jaw set, Dean gave it one more stroke and it rattled into the cup. 

 

"One over par… very _good_ , Dean," Castiel said brightly. Dean glared. Castiel beamed at him.  

 

At the eighth hole, Dean was three over par and a bit testy. Castiel finally took pity on him and came up behind him, resting his hands on Dean's hips. "Dean, I have a confession to make..." 

 

"What? You're a professional golfer? Win the PGA? Got the green blazer?" While Castiel noticed the bitter tone in his voice, Dean had leaned his body back against him. Castiel placed a soft kiss on Dean's neck. He added another for good measure. 

 

"No green blazer, but I did play on the golf team at Boston U." Dean stiffened and spun around. 

 

"You hustled me, dude. So not cool." He crossed his arms over his chest, his lips were pouting, and his expression was livid at monstrous betrayal. It took every ounce of willpower Castiel had to refrain from laughing. 

 

"I'm sorry, Dean. How can I ever make it up to you?" Castiel tugged Dean's arms down and placed them around him. He nuzzled against the stubble on Dean's cheek. "I'll do anything you ask if you'll forgive me," he whispered, peppering light kisses along the bridge of Dean's nose. Dean turned his head dramatically to the side and put his nose in the air, refusing to break. Castiel upped his game by leaning close to Dean's ear and rumbling, “Please, Dean… _please_ forgive my transgression.” He ran his tongue up to just behind Dean's ear and bit down on his earlobe, eliciting a deep groan from the other man. Dean valiantly tried to hold his ground, but he broke into a heart-stopping grin and relaxed into Castiel's embrace. 

 

"You are damn lucky you're good in bed." 

 

Castiel returned his smile, then kissed a path up to Dean's other ear and swirled his tongue inside before whispering, "No, I believe _you_ are lucky I'm good in bed." 

 

Mutually agreeing the game was done, they returned their equipment and strolled over to the rail. Dean pressed his chest to Castiel's back and rested his chin on Castiel's shoulder, sliding his arms around his waist. "What's next?" 

 

"Look," Castiel exclaimed, pointing at the water. Two dolphins were streaking along the surface. Dean grinned with the childlike wonder that warmed Castiel's heart, and they watched the playful creatures until they disappeared under the sea.  

 

"We should have done that dolphin swim thing in Cozumel," Dean lamented.  

 

"Yes, we should have," Castiel agreed, not wanting to think about how they'd been at odds that day. He was glad they worked it out, but he hated that they'd wasted even a few hours that could have been spent together. "Maybe we can do it another time," he said hopefully. 

 

"I think you can do it at Disney World. That's not too bad of a drive from NOLA.” Dean looked just as hopeful as Castiel felt, and for the first time, Castiel allowed himself to picture a future with Dean.  

 

The final hours of the last day at sea sped by much too quickly for Castiel. They drank with Gabe, Chuck, and Balthazar had a light dinner on the deck and caught a show on the Promenade Deck. They returned to Castiel's cabin around midnight. Much to his disappointment, Dean fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He got up and stepped onto the balcony. He stared up at the night sky, his thoughts just as dark. The ship would dock at ten. This fantasy would be ending. As much as he wanted to believe he and Dean had a chance, he knew the real world would come crashing in on him.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am leaving tomorrow for Tampa to spend my birthday with my two daughters, so I probably will not update until my return next Monday. 
> 
> The cruise may be drawing to a close, but these two aren't done yet. Have no fear, they will get their happily ever after.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness of this update, but I spent the week of my birthday with my daughters in South Florida. I had a great time and recharged my batteries. Hope you enjoy this chapter.

Dean opened his eyes and blinked at the overcast sky through Cas' balcony doors. Well, if it had to happen, at least it was near port. He turned his head and saw that Cas was still asleep. There were dark circles under his eyes that hadn't been there yesterday. Quietly, he got out of bed and went into the bathroom. After relieving himself, he splashed cool water on his face and stepped back into the bedroom. Cas hadn't moved. He glanced at the digital clock next to the bed and decided to go get them some breakfast. They still had two hours before the ship docked.  

 

At the buffet, he heaped his plate full of his favorites and got fruit and an omelet for Cas. When he got back to the cabin, he realized he didn't have a way to get into the room. He looked down at the two plates and tried to balance them on one arm. He'd never waited tables and it was a lot harder than it looked, but he managed. He knocked and waited. 

 

A disgruntled looking Cas opened the door, clad only in a pair of plaid pajama pants. "I was going for breakfast in bed, but didn't have a key," Dean said brandishing the plates with a sheepish grin. 

 

"Coffee?" Cas mumbled and stepped aside so Dean could enter. Crap. He'd forgotten the damn coffee. Cas took the plates from him and set them on the small table. "I'll go," Cas said, making for the door. 

 

"Dude, you can't go like that." It might have been a cruise made up of all men, but Dean didn't share and those pajamas were borderline obscene. It looked like one wrong move and they'd be around Cas' ankles. "You wake up some and I'll go get the coffee." Cas didn't put up any argument and Dean jogged down the hall to the bar near the elevators. He ordered two coffees and was handed packets of sugar and creamer. This time, he banged the door with his foot and Cas opened it. He gave Dean a sleepy smile of gratitude and took the offered cup. Dean felt like he could be happy for the rest of his life as long as he could be the one putting that smile on Cas’ face. He should have been surprised by that thought, but he wasn't. He felt oddly comforted by it. 

 

Dean sat down and waited for Cas to fix his coffee. Three sugars and two creamers. Dean drank his black. Cas was quiet throughout the meal and Dean didn't press. He wasn't very talkative himself. He noticed Cas' eyes going toward the clock on occasion, and he felt his heart break a little more with each passing minute. Dean wanted to smash the stupid sunburst clock into a million pieces, then light the fucker on fire for good measure… 

 

" _Attention passengers. We will be docking in New Orleans at ten o'clock. Please have your luggage ready for the porters in thirty minutes._ " 

 

"Guess we should get ready," Dean muttered, pushing his plate away. There was still food left, but he wasn't hungry anymore. 

 

Cas let Dean take the first shower while he packed. When Dean came out of the steamy bathroom wrapped in a towel, Cas' bags were by the door. Without a word, Cas closed the door behind him and Dean heard the water start up. He pulled some clothes out of the suitcase and stuffed everything else back in it. He was dressed by the time the knock sounded. Cas appeared fully dressed as the porter was leaving. "Dean..." His name was said with such melancholy that Dean's heart shattered. He went to Cas and hugged him close. 

 

"Cas, I'm going to be at The Delta tomorrow night." Cas simply nodded. 

 

He seemed to mentally shake himself. "I'm being overly dramatic." 

 

"Hey..." Dean kissed his forehead. "We said we were going to continue this. Being back home doesn't mean we aren't going to see each other again. I know it feels like the end of something and that it sucks ass. Cas, look at me…" Cas raised blue eyes that were a little too glassy. “…I want to see you again, every damn day if I can. I mean it.” Dean hoped his words broke through Cas’ insecurities about parting. He hated seeing his angel sad like this. "Want to go up on deck and do the cheesy touristy thing?" Dean asked with a smile, referring to the traditional way passengers lined the railings when a ship left or entered port.  

 

"No, I want to stay here." Cas led him to the balcony and they stood as New Orleans came into view. From Cas' starboard cabin, they could watch the ship docking and see the city beyond. They leaned shoulder to shoulder as the cruiseline's employees tied off the huge lines and set the gangway in place. Their eyes met, and Dean knew they were both remembering the night they had sex in this exact spot. Dean reached out and took Cas’ hand in his, wishing they both felt the same assurance that this wasn't the end. 

 

" _The ship is now ready for disembarking. Please make sure you have all personal items and thank you for sailing with Sunshine Cruise lines._ " 

 

Dean grabbed his laptop bag and with one last look at the cabin, he followed Cas out into the hall. Most passengers were already topside, and they joined the stragglers heading for the exit. In the elevator, Dean felt a need to be tethered to the man, so he took Cas' hand again and Cas held it tightly.  

 

They stayed together as they walked down the gangway and claimed their bags. Dean stopped and turned on his phone. He didn't pay extra for an international plan, figuring Sam could reach him via email if Mari went into early labor, so he hadn't checked it since he left port. There were a few texts from his publisher and his editor, but nothing important. He called Sam. "Sammy... yeah, just got in and have my luggage. Where are you?" 

 

Sam was waiting at the entrance to the terminal parking lot. With Dean's call, he was to drive up to the loading area. After he hung up, he turned to Cas. "Who’s picking you up?" 

 

"Zar and I took a cab to avoid leaving a vehicle in extended parking." 

 

"Good. We can drop you off." Dean wanted to spend as much time as he could with Cas. Sure, he'd see him tomorrow night, but he needed this. Besides, he'd get to see where Cas lived. 

 

"You don't have to do that, Dean. I live downtown. It's out of your way." 

 

"I want to, Cas," Dean said, trying to keep the pleading note out of his voice. 

 

"Alright. I'd like that," Cas said, a soft smile playing over his lips. 

 

At the curb, Sam was waiting in his Chevy Tahoe. He got out to greet his brother. After a hug, Dean turned to Cas. "Sam, this is Cas... Castiel Novak. We're going to drop him off at his place." Dean focused on his suddenly _very_ important luggage, rather than meet Sam’s eyes. 

 

Sam and Cas shook hands, both sizing each other up. "Sure, not a problem. Where do you live, Cas?" 

 

"I live on St. Philip." Dean had no idea where that was, but Sam apparently did. 

 

"In the French Quarter. Great. Let's get your bags loaded." He popped the rear door, and they slung their luggage inside. Cas automatically got into the back seat. Dean shut the passenger door, wishing he had the balls to sit in the back next to Cas. Sam pulled out of the parking lot. 

 

"How's Mari?" Mari's due date was approaching fast, and he was glad she didn't go into early labor while he was at sea. 

 

"She says, and I quote, 'This parasite needs to come the fuck out already.' The heat is making her miserable. The doctor says she's doing great though. The due date is next week. Fingers crossed she doesn't murder me before the birth." 

 

 

Castiel was pleased that he got to spend a little more time with Dean. He'd gone to bed last night around three, and time moved much too fast this morning to adequately show Dean how he felt. He definitely wasn't ready to say those three important words, but actions spoke louder. Isn't that what the old proverb said? 

 

They'd been quiet and the air between them felt a bit tense, but holding Dean's hand helped to calm him. Dean reminded him that he'd be at The Delta tomorrow night, and his reassuring words made Castiel feel like he could breathe again. He had no reason to doubt. 

 

Sam, Dean's brother, seemed to know the area well and soon they were entering the Quarter. Sam was regaling them with humorous horror stories about his very pregnant wife. It was obvious by the way Dean spoke about her that he loved her dearly. As they turned onto St. Philip, Sam glanced in the rearview mirror. "It's about two blocks up," instructed Castiel. 

 

While his home wasn't fancy on the outside, the townhouse was historic and he'd spent a lot of time and money on the interior. "Here on the left," he said, pointing to the white building with slate blue shutters. If it were just him and Dean, he'd invite the other man inside. Perhaps he'd take him to bed. As the vehicle rolled to a stop, Dean and Castiel both exited. Dean removed Castiel's bag and set it on the sidewalk. They stood awkwardly for a few moments before they both took a step forward at the same time. Dean laughed and pulled him close. He kissed him quickly on the lips and then eased back a step.  

 

"I'll see you tomorrow night," Dean said, reaching for the door handle. Castiel nodded and picked up his bag, fishing his keys out of the zipper pocket. He'd made it to the steps when he remembered a vital piece of information. "Dean, wait," he called out. 

 

Dean was already seated, about to pull the door shut. Castiel left his bag where it was and sprinted to the vehicle. "I don't have your number." Dean's expression was priceless, and Castiel noticed Sam chuckling. 

 

"Duh. That would have been a disaster," Dean exclaimed with a sheepish grin. They exchanged phones, and Castiel sent Dean a text. He randomly typed 'I miss you already' and as soon as he sent it, he wanted to take it back. Not wanting to see Dean's face when he read it, Cas took his phone and waved before crossing over the sidewalk to his front door. He didn't look back. 

 

As soon as he dropped his bags, he left again. The drive to his restaurant only took a few minutes since the traffic was light in the late morning of a weekday. He saw Rufus' work truck parked by the back entrance and pushed open the metal door. The kitchen hadn't needed renovations, since Castiel constantly kept it updated. With a hitch of excited breath, he placed both hands on the swinging doors and shoved. The smell of new varnish hit him first, causing him to scrunch up his nose in distaste, but he saw two construction workers setting up a large industrial fan at the front entry. Rufus spotted him and called out. "Hello, Castiel. Welcome home. What do you think?" 

 

Castiel turned in every direction, taking it all in. Everything was perfect, just like he'd envisioned. The old brick walls had been cleaned and looked like the original masonry again. The hardwood floors gleamed under the new chandeliers, sconces, and can lights. He couldn't wait until this afternoon, when his staff would get here to set up the new tables. To keep himself busy and hopefully let the time pass more quickly, Castiel hauled the crates of wine out of the storeroom and began placing them in the floor-to-ceiling wine rack by the front entry. He couldn't help feeling a rush of pride over how amazing everything looked, and he found himself feeling excited to show it all to Dean.  

 

By one o’clock, his staff had all arrived, happy and ready to work after their five-day vacation. Castiel, Balthazar, and their employees worked until late in the evening making sure The Delta was ready for business. The tables were set with white cloths and all the accoutrements needed for a dinner service. While Balthazar and the servers put the finishing touches on the front of the house, Castiel and his kitchen crew did inventory and went over the menu. A delivery was set up for the following morning, so all Castiel had to do was relax tonight. Tomorrow would be a very long day. 

 

After their employees clocked out for the night, Castiel and Balthazar opened a bottle of champagne and sat down at one of the tables. All the lights were on, but with heavy butcher paper covering the windows, no one could see inside. Castiel looked around, proud of what they'd accomplished. "To a new era, Darling," Balthazar said, holding up his crystal flute. Castiel tapped it and smiled at the sound. 

 

"To a new era," Castiel repeated, his expression suddenly pensive. 

 

"I get the feeling you aren't just talking about The Delta. You've fallen for the man, haven't you?" Castiel couldn't pretend he didn't know what Balthazar was talking about, so he shrugged and fixed his eyes on the tablecloth. "Cassie, not all men are like that insufferable jackass you lived with. You know that, right?" 

 

"Yes. I know Dean is different. I'm just..." Castiel continued avoiding his friend's knowing gaze. 

 

"Scared? Of course, you are, Darling. By the looks of things, he’s just as afraid. Love at first sight isn't easy to believe in, so it’s only natural that you’re terrified." 

 

"I _don't_ believe in love at first sight, Zar. Lust, perhaps, but not love." He said the words, but in his heart, he knew he'd already fallen for the green-eyed Adonis. Terrified? Yes, that was the perfect definition for what he was feeling. Thankfully, Balthazar let the conversation be steered toward their grand reopening. When the bottle was empty, both men stood and began the routine of closing up the place. 

 

On the drive home, Castiel thanked heaven that some things didn't change. Having Balthazar there to share in the good times and the bad was a constant, almost tangible part of his life. He'd been there when Fergus left him devastated, bringing wine and chocolate. He'd also been there for the opening of The Delta, Castiel's dream, this time, bringing his financial knowhow and support. Castiel always listened to Balthazar's advice. He might not take it, but he did listen. Was his friend right about Dean? Did Dean feel the same deep feelings? 

 

At home again, Castiel unpacked and dumped all his dirty laundry in the hamper.  He was getting into bed when he remembered that he didn't take Dean's text and make him a contact. He unlocked his screen and saw two unread messages.  

 

 **Text from unknown/10:28 – Dean**  

 **Text from unknown/10:32 – Miss you too, you big sap.**  

 

Castiel smiled down at his screen and saved Dean's number. After plugging his phone in, he set it on his nightstand. He turned out the light and blinked into the darkness. With a sigh, he picked up his phone again and opened the last text message. Dean missed him too. "Damn you, Dean Winchester," he whispered, but the soft smile contradicted his words. Sleep found him eventually, and he dreamed of green eyes, strong hands, and a sandy beach. 

 

Friday started early and by late afternoon, Castiel was already exhausted. He'd sent Dean a message earlier in the day after checking with his hostess, Pamela. A four-top was reserved for seven o’clock in Dean's name.  

 

Balthazar came into the kitchen at six o’clock and wrapped his hand around Castiel's neck. "Darling, you were less nervous when Anthony Bourdain showed up here a few years back. Calm down. He'll love us, and then my servers will stop complaining about you." Castiel managed to look contrite. He had yelled at a few of the front-end staff, and that wasn't like him. Sure, he was a perfectionist in the kitchen and his temper flared on occasion, but he wasn't Gordon Ramsey. His staff loved him, and he cared about each and every one of them, from the dishwashers to the sous chefs. 

 

"I'll apologize," Castiel said, and Balthazar patted him on the back. 

 

"Don't worry, I promise I'll let you know when they arrive. Until then… _breathe_ , Cassie." 

 

 

Dean knew it was coming and he braced for impact. As soon as Sam pulled away from the curb, it started. "Cas, huh? Guess I can safely say your trip was productive." Dean could see him trying to contain the smile forcing its way out. _Bitch_. 

 

"I had a good time, so what?" Dean said stiffly. He was still staring at the text from Cas, wondering how to reply. 

 

"Are you going to tell me about him, or are we going to play twenty questions?"  

 

"Nothing to tell," Dean mumbled, typing out the words and sending before he could second-guess himself. 

 

"That sweet kiss and the googly eyes are just nothing, huh?" Dean felt like punching him in the throat sometimes… 

 

"Shut up, Sam." Dean turned his head to stare out the passenger window. It's not that he was embarrassed about what happened with Cas, he just wanted to keep it to himself for a little while and take some time to process what he was feeling. Jeez, was that too much to ask?   

 

"Fine, be that way... but I'm telling Mari everything." Sam threatened. 

 

Dean spun in the seat. "Jesus Christ, Sammy, you can't tell her about Cas,” Dean shouted. And wasn't that a stupid thing to say? Not only did Sam tell Mari everything-- every little thing, no matter how embarrassing --but she was going to meet Cas Friday at dinner. _Oh, God..._  

 

"I like him, Sammy." Sam looked sideways at him as he merged onto the Causeway. Dean knew that coming from him, this was a monumental occasion.  

 

"Good. Just be careful." 

 

"Don't worry, Sammy. We use condoms," Dean said with an eye roll. 

 

"I wasn't talking about safe sex, you dumbass, though I'm glad you are... I was referring to your happiness, Dean. If he breaks your heart, I'll hunt him down." 

 

"Aren't you supposed to be telling him that?" Dean joked. 

 

"Don't worry, I'll make sure he knows," Sam said ominously. After a beat, Sam asked, "When are you seeing him again?" 

 

"Tomorrow night. Actually, we are all invited to The Delta for dinner." 

 

"The Delta? That's one of the hottest places in the city. How did _you_ get reservations? Besides, I heard it was closed for remodeling.” Sam stiffened, and his voice sounded tense. “That isn't your usual type of place, Dean. I don't think you should be changing yourself for some guy you just met. If he doesn't like you for who you are... Wait, _does_ he know who you are?" Sam finally stopped for a breath. 

 

"You done?" At Sam's curt nod, Dean responded. "I don't have reservations. I might know the chef there. It _was_ closed for remodeling, and tomorrow is the reopening." Dean's usual places are diners and fast food restaurants. Sam knew him too well. "I'm willing to try new things, Sam. Victor takes me out to nice places whenever I go to New York. And yeah, _Cas_ knows who I am, and he reads my books. For the record, he isn't just ‘some guy’ to me." _Shit_ _… did he really_ _just say that_ _out loud_ _?_  

 

"You know the chef? Since when? You never go into the city, Dean." Thankfully, Sam didn't seem to pick up on his confession, he was more focused on Dean's social life. 

 

"The chef's name is Castiel Novak." Dean let that sink in, his face set in a telling smirk. 

 

"Holy shit, Dean. You're fucking the chef of The Delta. Holy fucking shit..." Sam’s jaw was hanging open so wide, Dean was placing inner bets on when the drooling was going to start. _Well, that was_ _one way to shut him up._  

 

Or not... 

 

Sam spent the rest of the drive mercilessly grilling Dean about Cas. He was glad when Sam stopped the SUV in front of his little house. He was currently renting a fishing cabin on the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain from his old friend, Benny. It wasn't much, but it was home. Once Sam was gone, Dean left his bag in the living room. There wasn't anything in it he would need right away. He quickly got into a pair of comfortable jeans and stepped out on the back deck. He loved his view.  

 

The lake was calm and exactly what Dean needed to calm his turbulent mind. He thought about taking his canoe out, but he had to write. Victor would be calling and Dean needed to have something to give him. After taking a few deep, cleansing breaths, he went back inside and sat down at his desk. He could still see the lake through the window by his desk, and most days, the view was like a muse. He opened the file and read the last few pages he'd written. Before he knew it, he was sucked back into his story, and his fingers flew over the keyboard. 

 

A ringing phone pulled him out of Jensen's story. He wasn't surprised to see that it had gotten dark. When he got caught up in a world he created, he became completely unaware of the passing of time. "Hey, Little Mama," he greeted Mari. 

 

"Tell me everything." 

 

"I missed you too, Mari," Dean said sarcastically.  

 

"Dean... don't make me come over there." 

 

"I know Sam has filled you in on everything..." 

 

"Yes, but he's not a writer. I want sweeping words about romance... crushing lips, fingertips on tanned skin... spill it, Winchester." 

 

"My life isn't a romance novel." His sharp retort was met with silence. "Christ Almighty." He ran his fingers through his hair and stood up to pace. He sighed. "He's great, Mari. Sexy as fuck and he rocked my world." 

 

"How many times? Bottom or top? I have needs, Dean." _Jesus, she was relentless…_  

 

"He doesn't care either way. The first time, he fucked me, but then he... God, Mari... You don't understand. He's _perfect_." She was quiet again. "Mari? Did I lose you?" He held the phone out to check the call info on the screen. That's when he heard her. 

 

"Oh, Dean," she breathed out. "I'm so happy for you. Honestly, I had my doubts when Sam was telling me about him. You know how much Sam can exaggerate sometimes… but I can hear it in your voice." 

 

"Hear what?" 

 

"You know _what_. You write about it, Dean." Dean opened his mouth to protest. About what, he didn't know, but she cut him off before he could figure it out. "The second best part is that you scored us dinner at The Delta. I wanted to go there for our anniversary, but they were booked solid. I should have pimped you out months ago." 

 

"Gee, thanks. Good thing you're my favorite sister-in-law." They talked and teased for another fifteen minutes before Mari said she was tired and wanted to put her feet up. After hanging up, Dean saw he had an unread message.  

 

 **Text from Cas/** **2** **:48 – Table ready** **@** **7:00** **Friday.**  

 

Why was he disappointed Cas' message was short and to the point? He was busy. He had a restaurant to open after all… 

 

Dean spent Friday morning and afternoon writing. The words were flowing easily, and he was already on the fourth chapter. The outline was done and before he shut down, he emailed it to Victor along with the first three chapters. Glancing at the clock, Dean decided he needed to get into the shower. It was an hour's drive into the city, plus the extra time it would take to find parking. He'd told Sam that he would be taking his own car. His brother didn't question him. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he hoped Cas would invite him to stay. As he shampooed his hair, his imagination heated up. 

 

 _They'd lock up the restaurant after everyone went home. Cas would pour him a drink..._ _something top shelf. They would stare into each other's eyes and then Dean would pull him close. He'd_ _be able to taste the whiskey--no Scotch, single malt--_ _on Cas' tongue as they kissed_ _.._ _._  

 

His hand was moving up and down his shaft as his fantasy unfolded. _Cas would push him against the..._ the what? Were they in the dining room? Or the kitchen? Dean's writing instincts took over. There wouldn't be anything substantial enough to fuck on in the dining room. He'd never spent any time in a commercial kitchen, so he couldn't really visualize it. He cupped his balls with his other hand and moved on, crafting a different scenario. _They_ _would drive_ _back to Cas' place, barely able to keep their hands off each other._ _Cas' house would be understated_ _with masculine furniture. They wouldn't make it to Cas' bedroom. Cas would push_ _him_ _against the_ _wall by the door, finally letting himself loose on Dean._ _Cas_ _kisses_ _him_ _viciously, stubble rubbing burns into Dean's_ _skin_ _as they rut against each other_ _._ "Cas... fuck yeah... that's it..." Dean's fist moved faster. He was so close already. Letting his head fall back against the tiled wall, Dean allowed himself to come, hard and messy... 

 

It took a few minutes for his breathing to return to normal and to finish up his shower. Grinning, he dressed in his charcoal grey suit, paired with a slate blue shirt and dark navy print tie. He didn't bother with shaving. With a splash of his favorite cologne, he strutted to the door feeling more confident than he had felt in years. He was hot, _and_ he had a hot date with a hot chef.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take a moment to thank G33kDiva for editing this story for me. She gets me and my style of writing. Her suggestions are usually spot on and I find myself saying - "Crap, that's what I meant to write." She just picks up on it and adds a word or a sentence and the whole thing flows better.


	11. Chapter 11

Castiel wiped a bit of sauce from the edge of a plate before passing it over to be served. He glanced at the clock on the wall for the hundredth time. Five minutes until seven. He felt ridiculous for even noticing, but he couldn't stop himself from looking at the damn thing again. He pressed his sweaty palms to cotton covered thighs before calling out the next ticket. "One tuna, rare... one fillet, blue rare.. and two Cornish hens,"  

 

"One tuna, rare… one fillet, blue rare… and two Cornish hens," repeated Uriel. His sous chef, a tall, burly, African American man moved around the meat station with the ease and grace of a professional dancer. Knowing the order was in capable hands, Castiel let his eyes take in the smoothly running kitchen. He really was proud of his staff and how well they all worked together. His congratulatory reverie was broken when the double doors swung open and Balthazar, in his customary suit and silk tie, looked straight at him and nodded once. Dean was here.  

 

"Have his server come see me before going to the table," he called across the kitchen. Balthazar waved in understanding and disappeared back through the doors. Less than a minute later, Anna entered the kitchen. 

 

"Yes, Chef?" 

 

"Table Fourteen. VIPs. Treat them like royalty. The meal is on me tonight, as is a complimentary bottle of wine – their choice." Anna lifted an eyebrow. 

 

"Okay, Chef. Royalty, huh? Food critic? Celebrity?" Castiel looked pensive as he tried to decide how to answer her. Something in his expression must have given him away, because Anna gave him a knowing smile. 

 

"Don't worry, Castiel, I'll make sure they have a great experience." Anna left the kitchen, and Castiel breathed easier knowing Anna was one of his best servers. She'd been with him from the first days when the struggling restaurant was in its infancy. He could always count on her understanding and professionalism. He found it comforting in the midst of his current level of anxiety. He didn't know why he was so nervous. It's not like Dean's opinion would make or break the success of the restaurant... but he was startled to realize that Dean's opinion could make or break _him_. The connection they had was strong, but was it enough? Castiel's work was everything to him; at least it was until a week ago. He wanted to impress Dean with more than his physical appearance or his skill in bed. He had Dean's attraction, but he also wanted his respect. 

 

Resisting the need to poke his head out the door to see Dean, Castiel plated the next two entrees and tried to concentrate on his job. When Anna came back in with a ticket, Castiel almost dropped a full platter of appetizers in his haste to see what Dean ordered. She handed it to him after he sent the starter out with another server.  

 

"One ribeye, medium rare, one grilled Salmon, one roasted shrimp," he called over his shoulder, quickly reading the rest of the ticket, vaguely hearing Uriel repeat it. Someone ordered a Seven Sisters IPA. Two waters and the smoked paprika glazed andouille for a starter rounded out the order. "Anna, did you ask them about the wine?" 

 

"Yes. I overheard the shorter man say he was picking up the tab and for them not to go 'hog wild'. I wasn't sure if you wanted me to tell them you’re taking care of the meal. Should I have?" 

 

"No, that's fine." It was the perfect excuse. He glanced down at his chef's jacket to make sure it wasn't stained before smiling at her. "I'll take care of it."  

 

She followed him to the door and when he paused to take a deep breath, she touched his arm. "You’ve got this, Chef," she said with a grin and gave him a little push. 

 

Since Castiel was never one to mingle with his guests like some chefs, the hum of conversation quieted as he stepped into the crowded dining room. He caught Balthazar's smile of encouragement before his eyes settled on Table Fourteen. Dean had his back to him. Sam and his wife were looking around with what could only be considered awe. Castiel, always a stickler for details, noticed their beverages had already been delivered. 

 

As he neared the table, Sam saw him and nudged his wife. What was her name? Mary... no, spelled differently... Mari, according to Dean. Her eyes widened as he came closer. Dean must have sensed something was up because he turned his head around. His smile was gorgeous. _He_ was gorgeous. Castiel placed his hand on the back of Dean's chair with a wide grin. "Hello, welcome to The Delta." 

 

"Hey, Cas," Dean said, gazing up at him with a look on his face Castiel couldn't quite place… pride maybe? _Was Dean proud of him?_ "Nice place. You know Sam, and this lovely girl is Mari. She's carrying around my nephew, Dean Junior." 

 

"Don't mind him," Mari said at Castiel's quizzical look. "My little boy will _not_ be named Dean Junior. This..." She laid a gentle hand on her rounded stomach. "...is Oliver James."  

 

Castiel, not knowing pregnancy etiquette, smiled and said, "Nice to meet you, Mari, and you too, Oliver." The last part was addressed to her floral covered belly. "Sam, good to see you again." Finally, he moved his eyes over Dean. He'd dressed in a suit, and all Castiel could think about was ripping it off his body. Dean's face reddened like he knew _exactly_ what Castiel was thinking. "Hello, Dean." 

 

Someone cleared their throat, and Castiel pulled himself out of the trance Dean held him in. "I... uh... I just wanted to come out and let you know that tonight's meal is compliments of the house, as is any wine of your choosing." 

 

"Wow, thanks, man," Sam said, giving Dean a grin. "I’ll take you up on the wine offer. Mari can have one glass since it’s so late in the pregnancy." Castiel took the wine list from a passing server and handed it to Sam. "Any recommendations?" Sam asked squinting at the long list. 

 

"I'm going to guess that Dean is the one who ordered the steak..." Castiel waited for Dean's affirmative nod before continuing. "Then for you and Mari, I would suggest either a Marsanne or a White Rioja." Castiel stepped around the table and pointed them out to Sam. Sam picked the cheaper of the two just as Anna came up with their appetizer. "Anna, please get them a bottle of the Gran Reserva Rioja Blanco." 

 

Dean wasn't shy about trying the glazed sausage starter and he moaned his appreciation. Still chewing, Dean blurted, "Oh my god, this is awesome, Cas. Hey since I'm dating the chef, can I have a tour of the kitchen?"   

 

Castiel couldn't hide his smile. He loved the sound of that. He and Dean were _dating_. "I think that can be arranged. I've heard he's a nice guy and really sexy too." 

 

Mari's laughter rang out. "God, I think I love this man," she said to her husband. 

 

Since his presence was causing a stir in the dining room, Castiel thought it was best to get back to work. He leaned down and lightly kissed Dean's temple, placing an affectionate hand on Dean's shoulder. "Let Anna know when you are finished with your meal and I'll give you the nickel tour." Castiel tried not to notice the cheeky smiles and whispers from his staff. God, he was never going to hear the end of this… which somehow didn't bother him at all. He smiled to himself as he went back to his domain. 

 

When Table Fourteen's meal hit the line, Castiel gave it a critical eye. He'd cooked Dean's steak himself, knowing it was done to perfection. The glaze on the salmon made an elegant presentation, and the roasted shrimp was tossed expertly with angel hair pasta. He nodded his approval to Anna, and she placed the dishes on her tray. Castiel breathed a sigh of relief. The hard part was over. Now all he had to do was wait until they were finished eating so he could get Dean alone. He went back to watching the goddamn clock.  

 

 

Dean waited at the entrance of The Delta. Sam and Mari were right behind him on the causeway, so he knew they were just finding a place to park. He fidgeted with his tie nervously. His feet hurt. Walking in dress shoes for the block from where he had to leave the Impala was a bitch. He thought wistfully of recent days spent barefoot or in flip-flops. 

 

Five minutes later, they were inside. Dean's eyes widened in astonishment. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but it wasn't the understated elegance he was taking in at the moment. Hardwood floors gleamed and natural brick from a bygone era covered the walls. The lighting was enough to see by, but not bright by any means. The tinkling of cutlery and the ping of glassware could be heard over the quiet hum of the hundred or so people seated around tables topped with crisp, white cloths. "Dean." Balthazar came forward from the hostess desk, greeting him with a friendly smile and a handshake. "Glad you and your guests could make it." Dean shook his hand and returned the amiable smile.  

 

"Balthazar, this is my brother, Sam, and his wife, Mari. Guys, this is Balthazar, Cas' business partner." 

 

"Please, call me Zar," Balthazar corrected, shaking hands with Sam and kissing Mari on the back of her hand. Dean was amused by Zar’s obvious attempt at charming her. _Suave motherfucker…_ "If you'll just follow me," he said, indicating the dining area with a sweep of his hand. The three of them were led to a corner table in the back of the room. While Dean and Sam sat, Balthazar pulled Mari's chair out for her. Sam gave her an apologetic look. She was staring fondly at the man showing her such chivalry. Dean knew that look. Balthazar was about to be a character in Mari's next book. Dean held back a chuckle because he knew Balthazar would be more than thrilled with that. 

 

Their server came out of the kitchen, red hair in a French braid down her back. "Good evening. My name is Anna and I'll be your server tonight. Can I start you with a bottle of wine or something from the bar?" 

 

Dean hadn't even had a chance to open the leather-bound menu. Guess being guests of the chef had its perks… like really quick service. Since he was paying for this night, Dean spoke first. "No thanks to the wine, and since I'm picking up the tab, don't go hog-wild," he said, smiling pointedly at his brother. Sam just threw him a shit-eating grin and cracked his knuckles dramatically before picking up his menu. Dean narrowed his eyes at him before returning his gaze to Anna. "I'll take a beer, please. What do you have on tap?" She listed several brands, and when she got to one of the local microbrews, Dean stopped her. "That sounds perfect actually. I'll have the Seven Sisters IPA." She turned and looked expectantly at Sam and Mari. 

 

"We'll just have water for now... with lemon, please." 

 

"I'll give you a few minutes to look over the menu while I get your drinks." When she left them, Dean opened the menu and lifted a brow at the prices. This was going to be an expensive night. The three of them discussed what they were getting, and Mari decided on an appetizer. She couldn't eat as much as she used to since the baby was taking up so much valuable real estate, and she'd been craving spicy stuff lately. Who was he to deny her? It was an added bonus that it was only ten bucks. 

 

Anna brought their drinks and took their order before leaving them again. Dean couldn't stop looking around. He couldn't believe Cas owned this incredible place. After seeing the prices, he'd bet Cas wasn't hurting for money. Dean made enough to live on, but authors didn't bring in more than six figures unless they were Stephen King or J.K. Rowling.     

 

"This is a beautiful place. I wonder what it looked like before the renovations?" Mari asked, sipping her water. Sam looked up and did a double-take before smiling and nudging Mari. When her eyes focused on something behind him, Dean turned his head and grinned. Cas was walking in their direction. Dean noticed that the dining room had quieted substantially. Everyone seemed to be watching Cas. He stopped by Dean's chair and put his hand on the back of it. Dean could almost feel the warmth through the fabric of his blazer. Cas welcomed them and Dean introduced him to Mari. They made small talk, but Dean wasn't following along. He was too busy staring up at Cas. Dean had never even considered having a chef kink before, but _d_ _amn_ he looked hot as fuck in his chef's uniform. The crisp white jacket was emblazoned with the name of the restaurant and under it, Cas' name was stitched in black. He was wearing black pants that were a little too baggy for Dean's taste.  

 

"Hello, Dean." Cas' attention was finally on him, and Dean couldn't help but stare into those baby blues. He wasn't sure how long they eyefucked, but Sam had to ruin it by making a gagging sound. "I... uh... I just wanted to come out and let you know that tonight's meal is compliments of the house, as is any wine of your choosing."  

 

Wait, what? Cas was picking up the tab? Holy shit. He started to protest, but Sam was gushing like a teenager with a crush. The two of them started talking about wine, and Cas moved away from him. Dean was not happy with that. Cas was _his_. Jeez... why the fuck was he being so petulant? It's not like he wasn't going to get to see him again. He just wanted to feel Cas' touch right freakin’ now. He snapped out of it before he said or did something embarrassing. "I'm going to guess that Dean is the one who ordered the steak..." All eyes turned to Dean and he just nodded. He'd been flustered since Cas walked up. Why was he so nervous all of a sudden? He knew why. Cas was rich and obviously well educated. He knew about fancy wines and pronounced things like a pro. Dean didn't even know what a Rioja was. How could someone like Cas ever want someone like him?  

 

Trying to calm the butterflies that were having a rave in his stomach, he stuck his fork into a piece of the sliced sausage and crammed it in his mouth. It was spicy. With his mouth still full, Dean groaned and said, "Oh my god, this is awesome, Cas. Hey, since I'm dating the chef, can I have a tour of the kitchen?" And yep, there was that gorgeous smile… the one he'd grown to love. _Shit, there's that word again_ _._  

 

"I think that can be arranged. I've heard he's a nice guy and really sexy too," Cas teased, making Dean feel like he wanted to look around the crowded room and shout, _“Y_ _eah, he's mine, bitches_!” Mari's laughter brought a lopsided grin to Dean's face. She even told Sam she loved Cas. He could almost imagine the four, soon to be five, of them sitting around on Sunday mornings... _Cas fixing breakfast and Dean helping him. Mari hold_ _ing Oliver_ _…_ _and Sam_ _…_ _Sam would be taking up space like_ _the hulking Sasquatch_ _he is_ _._ Dean caught himself before getting completely lost in his daydream.  

Cas promised to give a tour of the kitchen when they finished eating as he bent down and kissed Dean; not on the lips, but near his ear. Somehow that seemed more intimate. Cas went back through the double doors, and Dean continued to stare after him until Mari kicked his shin lightly under the table. "Dean, he's beautiful. Don't fuck it up." 

He rounded on her, a look of disbelief on his face. "What do you mean? I’m not the kind of guy that--" He stopped short. _Was he?_ Was he the kind of guy that couldn't hold onto someone? As if reading his mind, Mari took his hand. 

"I was only teasing, Dean. He's totally smitten with you." Looking at her husband, she grinned. "I call dibs on planning the wedding." 

Dean choked on a sip of beer. He coughed and felt the sting of the alcohol in his nose. " _Wedding?_ " The syllables came out in a series of squawks. He sounded like a demonic chicken, which only made Mari laugh harder. Sam leaned back in his chair looking very amused at Dean's reaction. _Smug fuc_ _k_ _squatch_ _…_  

He was saved from further humiliation by the arrival of Anna with their meals. His steak was so tender he could have cut it with a butter knife. By the lack of conversation, Sam and Mari seemed to be enjoying their meals too. Anna refilled Sam's glass with wine, but Mari put her hand over hers and Anna nodded her understanding. Dean's beer was replaced twice during the course of their dinner. He forced himself to eat the last of his fancy mashed potatoes before pushing his plate back with a sigh of satisfaction. "I may have to marry him because this has ruined me for any other steak," Dean mumbled, and Sam rolled his eyes. 

 

Balthazar came over to join them. "I hope everything was to your liking." 

 

"Awesome, dude," Dean said, feeling the need to unbutton his pants. He'd gained a pound or two since he'd worn them last. 

 

"Would you care for dessert?"  

 

Dean shook his head, but pointed to Mari. "You're eating for two. Does Ollie need something sweet?" 

 

"You will _not_ call him Ollie," Sam interjected. Mari just shook her head. She looked just as miserable as Dean felt. 

 

"Thanks, Zar, but I guess we ate too much,” Dean said with an easy smile. 

 

"I'll let Castiel know you’re finished. He said you wanted a tour of the kitchen?" 

 

"Yeah, but I don't want to bother him..."  

 

"No, Castiel loves showing off his realm. Come with me." Somehow, Dean thought Balthazar was lying, but he wasn't going to question it again. They stood up. Sam had to help Mari to her feet, and she held onto her rounded belly as they made their way through the tables. Dean was getting speculative looks from both the staff and even some of the diners. He raised his chin and smirked confidently. They were just jealous because the sexiest chef in the world was all his. Instead of feeling annoyed, all he felt was proud of his man. Maybe he should tell Cas how proud he is of him. While Dean didn't readily share his feelings with others, he did believe in giving praise when it was due, and Cas had earned plenty. Dean just had to tell him… _or show hi_ _m._  

 

 

Castiel had gotten a heads-up from Anna that Table Fourteen was almost finished. He banged a metal spoon on the back of a pot and the kitchen quieted, all eyes on him. "Listen up. Someone very special to me is coming back to see the kitchen. Get your stations clean and please, _try_ to act like professionals.” He stared pointedly at his line cooks. They could be loud and crude at times. Everyone grinned at him with either indulgence or smugness, but he knew they would do whatever he asked of them.  

 

A few minutes later, Balthazar was leading Dean and his family through the swinging doors. Castiel moved forward to greet them. "Well, this is it," he said with his arms held wide, feeling shy all of a sudden. He’d had health department inspectors in here and was never afraid of them, despite the fact that they could shut him down with the stroke of a pen. This felt like something entirely different... 

 

"This is pretty cool, Cas." Dean's expressive, green eyes were taking in the shiny chrome, the neatly labeled ingredients, and the curious staff. Castiel placed his hand on the small of Dean's back and started the tour. He showed them everything from the huge walk-in freezer to the front line where he made sure everything was perfect before sending it out. Dean and Mari asked a lot of questions, not only to him but his employees as well. Hannah eyed Dean coolly, but she was polite. That was a plus. Dean leaned into his personal space while Uriel was showing Sam and Mari how to make risotto. "Is there someplace we can..." He wiggled his eyebrows in a gesture that was supposed to be suggestive, but only made Castiel chuckle. He grabbed Dean's hand and pulled him into his office, shutting and locking the door behind them.  

 

"Uriel will take care of Sam and Mari for a few minutes," Castiel assured Dean. There was a beat of silence before they lunged for each other, their mouths crashing together with unrestrained passion. Castiel pushed his tongue inside of Dean's willing mouth, swallowing Dean's moan as his hands gripped the material of his suit jacket, tugging him closer. _God_ , he wanted to devour every delicious inch of him. He broke away reluctantly. "Can you stay?" 

 

"Here?" Dean's voice was huskier than normal, and his eyes were unfocused. He was just as affected by the kiss as Castiel, which was… _interesting_. 

 

"My house, tonight... _I want you_. Please stay..." Castiel couldn't wait for a response; he _needed_ to taste Dean again. He ran his hands up Dean's thighs, stroked past his hips, then gripped them firmly on Dean's perfect ass as he swept his tongue along Dean's teeth. Dean's hand cupped his hardening cock and Castiel gasped into Dean's mouth, his hips bucking, seeking friction. He couldn't breathe. He didn't need to breathe as long as he had Dean. He was feeling lightheaded when Dean gently pushed on his chest. 

 

"Cas... babe... easy..." Green eyes found his and he relaxed his grip. Dean's smile was soft and knowing. The man knew exactly what he did to Castiel. He swallowed and took a step back. Dean reached up and ran his fingers through Castiel's hair. "What time to you get off?" 

 

Feeling confident and a bit brazen, Castiel took Dean's hand and pressed it to his crotch. "Soon, I hope." 

 

"Someone's horny," Dean whispered, his expression cocky. 

 

"And you aren't?" Castiel challenged, running one finger up the front of Dean's slacks, feeling his hard cock. Dean slowly licked his lips and then bit down on the lower one. _Fuck_ , did he know he was playing with fire? A feral growl escaped and he crowded Dean against the desk, looking right into his eyes. "Tell me, Dean. Tell me what you want." He'd purposefully lowered his voice, the tone raspy, knowing it would have the desired effect on Dean. The only warning he got was a whimper from Dean's mouth before hands flew up and fisted his hair, forcing his mouth onto Dean's. This time they were like animals, biting and clawing at each other, releasing the most delicious noises into each other's mouths. He felt Dean's blunt nails scrape the skin on the back of his neck. He used his strength to throw Dean back on the desk, send invoices and other papers crashing to the floor. He rutted against Dean's thigh, riding him, _needing him_. Dean was so responsive, thrusting up into Castiel's hip and grunting in pleasure… It made Castiel's head spin. Beyond the door, someone dropped a pot, the clanging of metal on tile bringing Castiel back to his senses. He groaned in frustration. He pulled Dean up to rest their foreheads together, both panting loudly. "We close at eleven," Castiel said softly. "You can wait in the bar. I would offer my office to you, but if I know you're waiting in here, I won't be able to think about anything other than bending you over this desk and fucking your brains out." 

 

Dean ran his fingers through his hair. "Okay," he drew the word out, and with one more light kiss, Dean backed away and adjusted himself. He buttoned his jacket to hide his obvious arousal. Castiel wasn't so lucky. His chef's pants were loose, but he'd gone commando as was his usual practice when he was working. The front was conspicuously tented. Dean slowly trailed light fingers over the hard ridge and looked up at Castiel innocently. "You seem to have a problem, Cas." Without waiting for a response, Dean opened the office door and slipped out, leaving Cas to deal with his 'problem’ on his own. He swore he would make Dean pay for that…  

 

Since Castiel practiced yoga, he took a few minutes to breathe in and out, counting each breath, clearing his mind, and willing his body to relax.  

 

Opening his door, he tried to look like he hadn't just been debauched in his office. By the looks of his staff, he'd failed miserably. Uriel gave a loud wolf whistle that was probably heard in the dining room. The line cooks held their hands up for a high-five as he passed them. Hannah averted her eyes, her hands working at a round of dough. She'd harbored a bit of a crush on him since she was hired. Some women, and he guessed some men, didn't understand that you couldn't make someone straight anymore than you could make someone gay. 

 

Dean, Sam, and Mari were no longer in the kitchen. He'd wanted to say goodbye to Dean's family, so he left the kitchen for the second time that night and went to the bar. The Delta's bar was small and intimate. The brick walls continued in this space, and Rufus had matched the lighting here as well. The bar itself was an antique from before the prohibition years.  

 

Luckily, Sam and Mari were standing at the bar with Dean. "I wanted to catch you before you left," Castiel told them, and he was surprised when Mari hugged him. 

 

"It was so good to meet you, Chef." 

 

"Please, call me Castiel... or Cas," he murmured, directing his gaze at Dean as he used the nickname Dean had given him. Mari and Sam said their goodbyes, and Castiel watched them leave. "Did they enjoy themselves?" 

 

"Hell, yeah," Dean crowed enthusiastically. "Mari has been wanting to come here for a long time, and you saw Sam… He's practically a fanboy." Dean paused and took his drink from Cain, the bartender. He looked down into it like the amber liquid held the secrets to the universe. "Thanks for tonight, Cas." 

 

"You are more than welcome, Dean." He wanted nothing more than to continue what they'd started in his office, but he still had a kitchen to run. "Will you be okay here for a while?" 

 

Dean looked around the small room. Soft music played over concealed speakers and only a few people sat drinking and conversing quietly. "Yeah, I'm good." Before Castiel walked away, he told Cain that Dean's drinks were to be put on his tab. Dean protested, but Castiel was adamant.  

 

As he walked through the dining room, he pulled Balthazar aside. "Dean is waiting in the bar for me. Could you check on him occasionally? I don't want him to get bored." 

 

"Of course, Darling. I will fight off anyone that even looks at his luscious ass." Castiel shook his head and went back to work. 

 

At ten, the last tickets came through and his staff pushed them out quickly. When the final plate had been sent to the dining room, Uriel approached him. "We got the cleanup, Chef. Go home with your man." 

 

"No. Thank you, but no." Castiel could not leave his responsibilities to his staff. He prided himself on working just as hard and just as long as anyone on his payroll. 

 

"Castiel, Zar already said he would cover for you. Just let us do this for you." Castiel opened his mouth to protest again, but Uriel held up his big hands. "It's nice seeing you so happy for a change. Go enjoy yourself." Castiel's answering smile was tight with emotion. He whispered his thanks and then he sought out Balthazar. 

 

"Thank you." Balthazar knew what he was saying without any explanation. He patted Castiel's shoulder. 

 

"I will make sure the money is in the safe. Uriel has the kitchen. Have a good time, my friend." Castiel entered the bar and stood watching Dean for a few moments. He'd removed his tie and jacket and rolled up his sleeves, showing his taut forearms. He was chatting with Cain and gesturing at the small television mounted on the wall. A baseball game was on. Cain saw him first and he picked up a bottle of Castiel's favorite vodka. He poured it into a shaker and shaved in some fresh ginger before squeezing a lime slice into it. After he added ice, he gave it a few shakes and strained it into a martini glass. Castiel reached for it and Dean started.  

 

"Shit, Cas. Wear a bell, man," he exclaimed, holding a hand over his heart dramatically.  

 

"I'm sorry." Castiel picked up the glass by its stem and took a sip. It was perfect. "I'm off, by the way," Castiel murmured against the lip of the glass. 

 

"Already?" Dean looked at his watch. "You're an hour and a half early." 

 

"Apparently, my staff and my partner want me to get laid." Dean's laughter radiated through Castiel's chest, making it feel strange. 

 


	12. Chapter 12

Dean followed Cas' car through the city, memorizing the way to Cas' house since he planned on visiting frequently. Cas parked on the street in front of his house, and Dean slid his baby right behind him.  

 

His hands were a bit sweaty so he wiped them on his slacks before getting out of the car. Cas was waiting for him on the sidewalk, keys in his hand. _God,_ he looked hot… Dean tried to contain his nerves and managed to pull off a pretty sexy swagger as he made his way over to Cas. Without a word to cut through the sexual tension, Cas unlocked the door and pushed it open, allowing Dean to enter first. Behind him, Cas flipped the light switch and Dean got his first look at Cas' home. 

 

The entry had hardwood floors and they looked original. Surprisingly, there was a grand piano sitting to the right of the door. "You play?" 

 

"Sometimes," Cas said softly, his fingertips trailing fondly over the rich finish. Dean filed that bit of info away for later.  

 

A staircase centered the room and the walls were painted in cream and gold stripes, an overlay giving them an antique patina. Large, heavy-framed paintings of New Orleans landmarks hung on the walls. A large, wrought-iron chandelier hung from the ceiling, its crystals sparkling. It wasn't what Dean expected, but then again, Cas wasn't like Dean. Cas was from an upper-crust family and could probably trace his roots back to the freakin’ Mayflower. Instead of being pretentious, Dean found the room suited Cas. "This place was gutted when I bought it. It took me almost a year to renovate it." 

 

"You did this yourself?" Dean asked, running his own hand over the richly carved banister. He slung his jacket and tie over the newel post. He wouldn't be needing them tonight. 

 

"Yes." The simple answer was modest in a way that told Dean that Cas was proud of his work, but not boasting. He moved closer to Cas, suddenly feeling like any space between them was too much. 

 

"It's beautiful, Cas." Dean swept his gaze over Cas’ gorgeous face, eyes dropping to see Cas nibbling at his lower lip as he took Dean's hand. He led him through two French doors into the living room. A large rug with a geometric design covered the floor. Antique chairs were paired with a contemporary sofa. Throw pillows gave the cream upholstery splashes of color. A wall of black and white photographs caught Dean's attention and he moved closer, pulling Cas with him. They were close-ups of the architecture that made up The Big Easy. After studying them for a few moments, Dean was sure they were taken by the same photographer. "Good eye. I'd love a few of these." 

 

"Thanks. I can take a few for you." Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Was there anything the man couldn't do? Chef, pianist, photographer, sex god, businessman... Dean was a failure compared to him. "What's wrong?" Cas asked, voice concerned, releasing Dean's hand only to wrap his hands around Dean's wrists. 

 

"You... you’re just really fucking amazing, Cas. Smart, beautiful, talented..." Cas began shaking his head. 

 

"I'm just _me_ , Dean," he exclaimed, his voice loud in the quiet of the room. "I was _forced_ to take piano lessons as a child, but I later learned to lose myself in the music. It helped me escape the emptiness of my life." He indicated the photos with a nod. "I started taking pictures because I needed a positive outlet for the incredible stress of opening a restaurant in a city where three out of five fail. Yet another escape. I'm flawed, Dean, and I come with a lot of baggage. I don't have family that I'm close to... God, you have _no idea_ how envious I am of your relationship with Sam and Mari." He stopped, seemingly embarrassed by his tirade. Dean lifted his hand to caress his cheek, running a thumb softly across the sharp cheekbones. 

 

"And I'm falling for you, flaws and all." He didn't mean to say it out loud, but Cas looked so broken and he needed to fix it. Words were all he had... using those words was how he made his living. He could write romantic shit for his characters all day long, but saying it and meaning it in real life… _that_ was so much harder. His stomach hurt and the rich meal threatened to come back to haunt him.  

 

Cas leaned into Dean's touch and his eyes closed. Dean couldn't help being enamored by the way his dark lashes fanned out over his cheeks. Cas' breath hitched and he parted his lips to speak, but only a sigh came out. He pulled Dean close and buried his face into Dean's neck. "Don't leave me," Cas whispered against his throat. "Please, just… don't leave me." 

 

Dean dropped his hand and wrapped his arms around Cas' waist, holding him tight. "Never," Dean whispered back, and he knew it was a vow he would never break. He didn't understand _wh_ _y._ After all, they had only known each other for less than two weeks… but somehow he knew it to be true down in the deepest part of his soul. They stayed in each other's arms for a long time. Headlights from a passing car flashed against the windows, and Cas slowly loosened his grip. Dean kissed him softly, and this time it was Dean that took Cas by the hand and led him up the staircase, picking up his discarded jacket and tie as he passed. The hallway was dark, but instinct told him where to go. Only one door stood open. 

 

He found the light switch to the right of the door and flipped it up. The room was incredible -- floors of dark ebony, walls painted flat black, and windows covered by matching silk drapes. In the center of the room was a four-poster bed, its white comforter the only other color in the room. Hanging from the ceiling was an ornate chandelier, also black with thousands of tiny crystals refracting the light. One nightstand and a massive dresser were the only other pieces of furniture in the room. "I need to shower," Cas said behind him. Dean simply nodded. He was struck how a space so absent in color could be so stunning.  

 

Cas moved away from him to another open door and light flooded the room as he disappeared into it. Dean assumed it was the master bath. Curious, he followed. If the bedroom was a study in black, the bathroom was the opposite. The Victorian style sinks and clawfoot tub were too white to be original, but fit perfectly alongside the modern toilet and the stark subway tiled walls. The floor was patterned with an occasional black inset. All the elements coordinated so perfectly, but it was the shower that really drew his eyes. Black veined marble made up the back and one side, but the rest was all glass. Polished chrome shower heads and fixtures sparkled in the overhead lighting. Cas stood in the center of the room. Dean let his eyes roam Cas' still-clothed body. "I want to watch."  

 

There was a slight movement of Cas' jaw, but he didn't hesitate. He undressed slowly and deliberately. Dean leaned against the doorjamb and tucked his hands in his pockets. He'd found out in Cas' office that the man wasn't wearing underwear, but when the pants hit the floor, the thrill sent shivers up his spine. Cas was half hard, his cock thick against his dark bush. Dean licked his lips as he looked into the other man’s eyes expectantly, cocking one eyebrow. Now completely nude, Cas stepped into the shower and turned on the tap. He waited for it to begin steaming before he stepped under the spray. How the man made a shower seem like porn, Dean couldn't begin to understand. Cas' hands splayed on his tanned skin, moving sensuously up his ribs, ghosting over his nipples. _Porn_. Dean watched as Cas shampooed his hair, head back, eyes closed. _Porn_. After he rinsed, Cas squeezed some bodywash into his palm and began to lather himself. _Porn_. Dean's own pants were tight in the crotch, but he kept his hands relaxed in his pockets, refraining from touching himself. He bit his lip hard, tasting copper inside his mouth as he fought to maintain control. He couldn't look away from the picture in front of him and didn’t want to do anything to draw his mind away from this beautiful sight... 

 

The hot water sluiced off Cas, leaving his skin slick and glistening under the shower's light. No, Dean never wanted to leave this perfect man. _Never_. 

 

While Castiel hadn't changed much about the house since Fergus left, he had rearranged things, adding a few touches here and there. Fergus had taken a few pieces of art they'd bought together, but Castiel was glad they were gone. He’d hated Fergus’ art choices and liked the space much better without them. It had been the first time Castiel felt like adding art to a home made it feel _col_ _der_. He was much happier with his house now, and as he stood aside to let Dean enter his home first, his heart was hammering in his chest. Dean liking The Delta was one thing, but this was his sanctuary. Dean's reaction to this meant everything. 

 

He watched Dean's eyes sweep the foyer. The large space was reminiscent of a simpler time. He'd stripped the floors down to the original wood and stained them himself. The piano, a baby grand, had been an indulgence. He loved to play after he got home from a long night at the restaurant, melancholy pieces to match his mood after Fergus left or upbeat jazz as he healed. 

 

Dean seemed surprised when Castiel said he did the renovations himself. He looked at the space and was proud of the blood, sweat, and yes, tears, that went into this place.   

 

"It's beautiful, Cas." Castiel took Dean's hand, anxious to show him the rest of the house. The living room was an eclectic clash of modern and antique. Dean tugged Castiel by his hand over to the wall of photographs. Castiel had taken each one with his old Nikon from his college days. He'd roamed the city every Sunday for several weeks, snapping photos every time he connected with something in this strange city filled with so much history. He’d hoped to gain a greater understanding of his new home by capturing pieces of its essence one frame at a time. He had them printed and framed because the black and white pictures made his love for this city tangible. "Good eye. I'd love a few of these."  

 

Castiel felt a flush of pride. "Thanks. I can take a few for you." He quickly imagined him and Dean exploring his adopted city together, but then he saw Dean's face. Dean was better with the written word, but Castiel would have chosen the word ‘crestfallen’ to describe Dean's current expression. It didn't make any sense… _why would he be upset?_ "What's wrong?" Cas released Dean's hand and clutched at his wrists, panic settling in his bones. 

 

" You... you’re just really fucking amazing, Cas. Smart, beautiful, talented..." Castiel shook his head vehemently. Did Dean think he was inferior to him in some way? He couldn't be allowed to think that way. Castiel was the one with the flaws. Dean was… well, he was magnificent… _perfect_ even. The words tumbled out, and when he was done, he was breathless and felt ashamed. But then Dean touched his face with so much tenderness, the palm of his hand warm. "And I'm totally falling for you, flaws and all." Castiel could only close his eyes and pray that Dean meant what he said. He opened his mouth to speak, but a soft sigh was the only sound he could manage. He grabbed Dean by the waist and fell against him.  

"Don't leave me," Castiel begged. "Please, just… don't leave me." He felt Dean's strong arms holding him and felt the strength of his whispered promise, and God help him… he _loved_ this man. He loved Dean. Castiel knew it was true the moment he thought it. Minutes passed and neither seemed to want the embrace to end. A passing car broke the spell, and he collected himself enough to release his hold on Dean. Dean kissed him then; a sweet, chaste kiss. He took Castiel's hand and they made their way upstairs.  

Dean turned on the bedroom lights. Castiel tried to see his room through Dean's eyes. This was the one room he'd changed completely after Fergus left him. In that previous life, the room was carpeted with bright white walls, and Fergus had picked out heavy, oak furniture. All of that was gone now. Some might say Castiel made the entire room black because of depression, but that wasn't really the case. He loved the sexiness of it. The bed was from an antique shop in the quarter; he'd seen it through the window and knew he _had_ to have it. He didn't want it because he _should_ or because his _boyfriend_ wanted it… no, this was something he wanted strictly because _he_ liked it. He decorated the entire room around this bed. The four-poster was stained black with an intricately carved headboard. When he'd bought it, he fantasized about meeting someone who he could tie up there... _or_ _who would tie him up_. 

Needing to wash the kitchen smells off his skin, he told Dean he needed a shower. Since Dean didn't reply, Castiel stepped into his bathroom and turned on the light. He was about to take off his chef's coat when he felt Dean's presence at the door. Dean's next words made his knees weak. "I want to watch."  

Biting the inside of his cheek to prove this wasn't a dream, Castiel began his seduction of Dean Winchester. Every movement was designed to entice. He took just a little bit longer than usual to remove his clothes. He flexed his hips a bit more when he stepped into the shower. He made his shower routine last longer than usual… but eventually, he turned off the tap. Without even making eye contact, he could feel the sexual tension radiating off Dean. He stepped onto the mat and bent to take a clean towel off the shelf, showing off his toned ass. Running definitely had its benefits... 

 He slowly toweled off before finally meeting Dean's heated gaze. His skin was flushed and his eyes were dark with want. Castiel walked toward him, his cock heavy between his legs. He wasn't fully erect, but that would change very soon. Dean held his ground, not moving from his casual stance in the doorway. He waited until Castiel was inches from him before inhaling sharply, his soft, pink lips parting in invitation. Castiel wasn't feeling the same restraint… he gripped the front of Dean's dress shirt in his fist and hauled him forward. His lips were hard against Dean's. He thrust his tongue inside Dean's mouth, eliciting a whimper from Dean, sending Castiel's heart rate through the roof. The cloth of Dean's slacks felt rough against his now hard shaft, and he reveled in it, needing the discomfort to keep him sane... to keep him from ripping Dean's clothes... to keep him from marking Dean as _his_ like the Neanderthal he once accused Dean of being.  

Somehow... someway... they made it to the bed. Castiel was impatient as he fought with the buttons on Dean's shirt. God, he'd looked so hot in his suit and tie. Dean wasn't being idle either. No, his hands and mouth were everywhere. _Damn buttons_. With a triumphant snarl, he released the last one and shoved the edges of the shirt aside. Wasting no time, he splayed his hands over Dean's chest and lowered his mouth to Dean's stomach. He kissed and licked at the soft skin, basking in the flavor of _Dean_. While his mouth was busy, Castiel's right hand grasped Dean's length, still confined in his pants. So hard... he vividly remembered how it looked... darker from the telltale blood filling it, cut and beautiful, long and thick. Breath harsh with need, Dean yanked on his hair, forcing Castiel up to meet his lips. They shared the same air, both struggling to remain calm enough not to end this before it could begin. 

"Undressed..." Dean groaned against his lips and managed to roll Castiel off him. Castiel's head came to rest on a pillow, and he watched intently as Dean struggled to stand on trembling legs. He got his arms caught in the cuffs of his shirt because he failed to unbutton them. This caused Castiel to throw a wicked grin his way. Frustrated, Dean waved his arms around, struggling helplessly. Taking pity on him, Castiel rose to his knees and carefully undid Dean's self-imposed bondage. Finally free, Dean tossed the shirt on the floor and reached for his buckle. The swish of the leather through belt loops sent a thrill through Castiel. Dean noticed his reaction and folded the belt in half, snapping it loudly to get Castiel's attention. It was _hot_. Castiel thought he should file _that_ away for later. A half second later and Dean stood clad only in black boxer briefs, his hardened cock outlined beautifully.  

Still on his knees, Castiel reached for him, tugging him forward by the elastic waistband. "You are fucking incredible," he said softly as he lowered his head to mouth Dean through the cotton underwear. He found himself flat on his back again. Dean had shoved him down as he was pushing his underwear down bowed legs, his eyes never leaving Castiel's. 

Electricity spread through Castiel as Dean lowered himself, lining up their cocks perfectly. "Dean," he said his name reverently, pouring all his emotions into that single syllable. They kissed and touched, content to take their time and enjoy each other. There was no real need for words. Time stood still between them, but soon their movements became heated again. Fingers dug into soft flesh as teeth nipped and left marks. Castiel grabbed Dean's ass and squeezed, fingernails biting into skin. "Fuck me, Dean." 

Dean's head rose and looked down at him. The corner of his mouth lifted in a sexy half smile. "Where's the..." 

"Nightstand," Castiel answered before Dean could finish his question. Dean chuckled quietly as he reached for what he needed. _Did condoms_ _expire?_ He hadn't brought anyone here since Fergus left. Dean held up the plastic bottle of Pjur and started reading the label. Castiel rolled his eyes and snatched it out of Dean's hand. "Yes, it is safe for condoms and it's long-lasting." 

By Dean's calculations, foreplay had lasted well over an hour. That was cool and all, but after the pregame show in Cas' office and that hot shower scene that he was _definitely_ putting in his mental scrapbook, he was horny as _fuck_. Yeah, the thing with his shirt should have been embarrassing, but Cas somehow made it better. For the first time in his life, he knew he could just be himself… be _Dean_. Sure, he could always act stupid or say something crazy in front of Sam and Mari, but he'd never really been his true self in front of a lover before. Not until Cas… he'd never felt this accepted or this comfortable being himself. Cas would be more than a lover, he could be Dean's best friend.   

Dean should have known the supplies would be in Cas' nightstand; after all, that's where he kept his. But you never knew unless you asked... Cas answered his question before Dean could even string the words together. Someone was just as eager has he was. 

He'd always used lube that he could readily pick up at the local drug store or Walmart… this stuff that Cas had in his drawer looked fancy. _Pee-_ _jur_? Was that even how you pronounced it? Bet it was some expensive shit. _The label said..._ It was grabbed out of his hand. "Yes, it is safe for condoms and it's long lasting." 

"Long lasting... good to know," Dean said, attention returning to the open drawer. He saw the familiar red box and picked it up. Thankfully, Castiel didn't have any weird type of rubbers. And since he was nosy, he checked out what else was in the drawer. "Hmm… You _k_ _inky_ _fucker_..." He held up the handcuffs, dropped them, and picked up the long, blue dildo. "Nice," he said with eyebrows raised in approval. Placing _that_ back, he pushed aside the breath mints... always nice to have. And what was... _nipple clamps?_ "Whoa." He dangled them from one finger. "I'm going to have to come over to play more often..."

"Are you done?" Cas said, a hint of irritation in his tone. Dean stopped his snooping and ripped off a foil packet from the strip of three. If he had his way, they would use them all before Cas had to get back to the restaurant.

"Hey, Sunshine, you never truly know someone until you snoop in their medicine cabinet and sex stash." Cas's bitchface rivaled one of Sam's. Dean went out on a limb and guessed Cas _wasn't_ in the mood for humor. To make it up to him, Dean positioned his body along Cas and proceeded to kiss him with reckless abandon, seeking to devour every delicious inch of him. Dean held nothing back, pouring everything he had into showering Cas with attention. Cas responded by wrapping his leg over Dean's and taking Dean's hard cock in his fist.  

Dean used the thumb of his free hand to flip the top off the lube, and without even lifting his mouth off of Cas, he squeezed the gel onto his fingertips. Snaking his arm around, he moved Cas' leg high so it rested above his hip. He pressed a finger into Cas' tight hole and loved how the man moaned into his mouth. Cas' hips were moving back and forth as he fucked himself on Dean's hand. _Jesus_ … Cas was everything he ever wanted in a lover -- dominant one minute and putty in his hands the next. Dean would bet real money on their sex life never becoming boring… _Never_. He'd actually said that word to Cas. The logical side of him knew a little over a week wasn't long enough to fall in love, but hell if he wasn't head-over-fucking-heels for the guy. 

Dean took his time opening Cas up. Their kisses had become languid... soft brushes of lips… incoherent words... it all blurred together into something beautiful between them. It wasn't something they were trying to create...no, this happened all on its own. When the time came, Dean leaned up on his arms and hovered over Cas, green eyes drawn to blue while pushing slowly into him. Dean loved feeling Cas’ tight heat enveloping him. Cas’ heels dug into Dean's back, pulling him even deeper and making Dean lose his fucking mind. Dean was certain nothing would ever compare to this… Cas was something special. Dean could fuck him a thousand different ways and it would still feel like it was new every time and _never_ _enough_.  

Just when Dean thought he couldn't soar any higher, Cas locked his legs behind him and used the strength of those strong legs to flip them over, straddling his cock so he could ride him freely. Dean had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire fucking life. He reached up and gripped Cas’ hair, yanking him down for a filthy kiss, putting an end to any remaining distance between them. Dean gripped Cas tightly as he rose up to bring them chest-to-chest, Dean continuing to fuck into Cas without restraint.   

To get more leverage, Cas sat up and braced his thighs against Dean's lean hips. “ _Cas_ …” Dean groaned in ecstasy, continuing his thrusts. Cas raked scratches down Dean’s chest and moaned his name over and over again like a prayer.  Dean dug his fingertips into Cas’ hips, pulling them down to meet his upward thrusts, fully expecting there would be bruises tomorrow.  

“Dean… oh, _Dean_ … don't stop… please, _never stop_. _Oh_ _,_  G _od_ …” Cas growled in his deep, whiskey-soaked voice, leaving Dean a panting mess. 

“Cas… I'm gonna… baby, I—“ Dean reached down and grabbed Cas’ hard cock and stroked up and down, meeting the rhythm of his deep thrusts.  

“ _Dean_ … oh, my _G_ _od_ _…_ _yes...yes_ _,_ ” Cas cried out, his voice hoarse from his labored breathing. Cas' body tightened around Dean. 

“ _Unh_ _..._ _Cas_ _..._ God, you're so fucking beautiful… Come for me, baby... that's it. _Make me yours_ _. Love_ _you...God, love_ _you so much..."_  Dean's chest was burning, his heart hammering in his chest.  

Cas' eyes were wide as he looked down at him, his hips pistoning as he ground down on Dean's cock. His fingers dug deep into Dean's chest and Dean felt the muscles in his thighs clenching as he came, his orgasm painting Dean's chest in hot, white strands of cum. Dean looked down, taking in the sight of Cas’ release on his belly and chest, and he thought it might be one of the hottest fucking things he’d ever seen. Cas was breathing hard, his body spent, but he still was rolling his hips back and forth, up and down. Focusing on Cas' pleasure, Dean's release had ebbed, but now, he started to thrust upwards again and again. Watching Cas come down from his sexual high was enough for Dean. He felt his balls tighten and the familiar pull in his groin. He moaned Cas' name as his orgasm claimed him, shooting his hot load into Cas’ ass and claiming him for his own. 

Cas let his body relax onto Dean, nuzzling his neck and showering his skin with lazy kisses. Dean held him close, stroking his hair tenderly and kissing his shoulder softly as their breathing returned to normal. Dean rolled them over, so they were side by side again. His cock slipped out and he quickly removed the condom. Cas took it from him and if that wasn't awesome, Dean didn't know what was. He was so tired...so content, and he really didn't want to get up. Cas rolled off the bed and Dean heard a flush moments later and then Cas was back. He protested softly as Cas turned him, making him the little spoon, but his eyes closed and sleep overtook him. The last thing Dean remembered was hearing the word “love” whispered into the dark.  

The shrill sound of his phone woke him. He fumbled for his nightstand and found empty air. Blinking against the darkness, he sat up. Where...Cas'. He was at Cas' house. In Cas' bed. The ringing was insistent. His phone was probably in his pants, and they were somewhere in this dark expanse. When had Cas turned out the lights? As soon as the ringing stopped, it started again. An irritated growl came from the pile of pillows beside him. Dean hopped up and keeping his hand on the edge of the mattress to guide him, he walked around until he saw the glow from his screen.  

Sam's name was on the screen. "Hey..." 

"We're on the way to the hospital, Dean. Mari's...we're having a baby." Sam's voice was shaky, but excited. Wide awake now, Dean's heart pounded. They were having a baby. His mind raced.  

"Okay...this is good. Is Mari alright? St. Tammany, right?" Mari and Sam had chosen to have the baby at the small hospital in Covington rather than traverse the distance to one of the bigger ones in New Orleans. It was only about ten minutes from Abita Springs. It would take Dean an hour to get there. 

"She's fine..." The phone was apparently snatched out of Sam's hand because the next second, he was listening to his sister-in-law. 

"I'm fine, Dean. There is no need for you to drive over now. Stay with your man and get some more sleep. I'll probably be in labor for hours, since this is only my first." Damn, she sounded so calm. How could she be so calm? She was having a fuckin' baby. She was expelling a tiny human out of her...oh, God... 

"I'm on my way. I'm not missing a second of this, Mari." Was it weird that Mari wanted him in the labor and delivery rooms with them? Who cares. This was his nephew...his godchild. 

"Why did I even try to make sense. You and Sam are so pigheaded. He was actually going to call for a police escort. I'm surrounded by idiots." The line when dead as she hung up on him. He stared at the screen a few more precious seconds and then the adrenaline hit. He had to get moving.  

"Dean, is everything okay?" Sudden light made him squint. Cas had turned on the bedside lamp. All he could do was grin. 

"We're having a baby, Cas." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I've got a busy weekend coming up with my soapmaker's conference, so I won't be around much until Sunday night.


	13. Chapter 13

What Dean had said in the middle of sex couldn't possibly be taken seriously-- _could it?_ The man already promised he would never leave him. Wasn't confessing his love right up there with _that_ important declaration?  

It was only after their breathing returned to normal that Castiel began to really analyze Dean's words. They were spooning now, something Castiel _never_ did with—no. It was time to stop comparing Dean to Fergus. Dean was a better man and a greater lover than anyone Castiel had ever been with, period. He could easily see himself sharing his life with this amazing man. "I love you too, Dean," he whispered against Dean's ear. A soft snore was his response, and that was okay.  

He closed his eyes and drifted into a dreamless sleep, only to be awakened abruptly in the middle of the night—well, technically it was morning—by an irritating sound. A damn cell phone… definitely not his. He grumbled and pulled a pillow over his head. He was vaguely aware of Dean moving around the bed and was drifting off again when Dean's excited words made him sit up. "Okay... this is good. Is Mari alright? St. Tammany, right?" It sounded like Mari was in labor. He lay back with his head on the stack of pillows he'd collected overnight and listened. St. Tammany's parish was north of Lake Pontchartrain, in Covington. He only knew that because Balthazar's cousin was a nurse there.  

Dean appeared to be listening, and he could almost make out Mari's voice in the quiet of the room. His blackout curtains made it almost impossible to see anything in the dark room. With him working until late into the night and hanging out with other chefs after, Castiel didn't usually get out of bed until noon most days. Even without seeing the sun, Castiel could tell that today was _not_ one of those days… 

All was silent for a few seconds. "Dean, is everything okay?" Castiel switched on the lamp next to the bed and blinked at the brightness. Dean stood in the center of the room, still holding his phone, his pants dangling from his other hand. He was still gloriously naked. 

"We're having a baby, Cas," he said, voice filled with wonder. His adorable smile made him look several years younger and brightened the entire room. A selfish thought entered Castiel's mind. Mari was having her baby, and that meant Dean was leaving. He'd wanted to sleep in and wake up next to him. He had planned to make him a great breakfast and serve it to him in bed…and definitely fill the day with more sexy times. 

"That's great, Dean," he said, forcing himself to sound enthusiastic. Dean, still wearing that huge smile, started getting dressed. Castiel could only watch helplessly. 

As Dean buttoned the cuffs of his shirt, he frowned and looked up. "Come on, Cas, time’s wastin'." Castiel tilted his head to the side in confusion. "You _are_ coming, aren't you? Oh, shit... I don't even know what time you have to be at the restaurant. I'm used to setting my own hours and sometimes I forget that most people have real jobs."  

"I usually go in at 3:00 to prepare for the dinner service," Castiel said, distracted by Dean's words. Did he say he wanted Castiel to come with him? Surely not. This was a family thing. He was an outsider. 

"Good! You can drive us there, and when you have to come back to the city..." Dean appeared to be thinking about logistics and he stopped, his eyes narrowed as he ran his hand over his stubbled cheeks. "Yeah, okay... I'll leave the Impala here and I can get Sam to bring me back... No, he's not gonna want to leave Mari and Oliver." 

"Dean..." Dean looked up, focusing on Castiel. "I'm sure Mari and Sam don't want a stranger intruding on such a momentous occasion. You go ahead, and you can call me when Oliver is born." Dean did not look happy at this suggestion. "Go. Your family is waiting for you." 

"But..." Castiel just shook his head. "Okay, fine, Cas. I'll keep you informed." He put on his shoes and sat on the edge of the bed with a deep sigh. Castiel smiled and took his hand. He kissed each knuckle. "I don't want to leave," Dean whispered, staring at their clasped fingers. 

"It’s alright, Dean. Go." Dean nodded and leaned over to kiss Castiel. It was a gentle kiss goodbye, and then he was gone. Castiel heard the front door shut and the engine of Dean's car start. He flopped back onto the pillows and told himself to _breathe_. Dean said he loved him. Dean promised to never leave him. It would be alright. Everything would be alright. 

He slept for another hour and then padded downstairs in a pair of running shorts to fix something to eat. With the cruise and the reopening, he hadn't had a chance to go grocery shopping. Perhaps it was a good thing Dean didn't stay. He fixed a plain omelet and sat at the island to eat it. He didn't even get to show Dean his kitchen. Not that he had any regrets about how they spent their evening…  

After he cleaned up the dishes, he went upstairs. He didn't feel like going out for a run, but after all the rich food on the cruise, he desperately needed to exercise. He went to his room and pulled on his running shoes. Opening the first door to the left of the stairs, Castiel entered his home gym. He turned on the wall-mounted television to one of the twenty-four-hour news stations and stepped onto the elliptical machine. Setting the timer for thirty minutes, he began to move. It helped to clear his head and focus on something other than the anxiety he felt when Dean left.  

Sweaty and ready for a shower, Castiel entered his room just as his phone was ringing. It was Dean. "Hello, Dean." 

"You okay? You sound out of breath." 

"Thirty minutes on the elliptical will do that to you," Castiel said, heading for the bathroom. "How's Mari?" 

"Elliptical? So, you’re one of _those_ guys, huh?" He could practically hear the smirk in Dean's voice. 

"I'm not sure what you mean by ‘one of those guys’..." Castiel toed off his shoes and hooked a thumb around his waistband, pulling them off with one hand. 

"Another Sam… eating healthy and exercising." Castiel chose to ignore that and pressed him for information on Mari. "She's good. The doctor came in a few minutes ago and said she's doing fine. They have her hooked up to this contraption that lets everyone hear Oliver's heartbeat. It's pretty damn cool. Sam’s the one I'm worried about," Dean continued with a laugh. "He's a wreck. I think he's had like ten cups of coffee." Castiel smiled at Dean's commentary. He went on to describe the nurses and Mari's endless complaints to Sam about his role in her pregnancy. As he wound down, Dean's voice softened. "I wish you were here." 

"Me too," Castiel replied. He leaned against the counter and closed his eyes. It was stupid to pine away for someone who just left a few hours ago. "I hope..." He was interrupted by someone banging on his door. "Fuck," he muttered.  

"What?" 

"Someone is at the door and I'm standing in my bathroom naked." 

"Holy fuck, Cas," Dean exclaimed loudly. "You should have led with that, man. Our conversation would’ve been a _lot_ more fun." Castiel chuckled softly. "Guess you need to go, huh? I'll call you when I have more news." 

"Goodbye, Dean." 

"Bye, Cas." Castiel waited a second, listening to dead air. He'd hoped Dean would repeat the words from last night. He huffed out a breath and put his sweaty shorts back on.  

When he opened the door, Balthazar stood there holding a bag with a familiar Café du Monde logo and a cardboard container holding three cups of coffee. "I know I'm interrupting your time with Dean, but I thought you and Dean could use some sustenance." 

"Thanks for thinking of us, but Dean had to leave." At Balthazar's surprised expression, Castiel felt the need to continue. "His sister-in-law went into labor early this morning. He had to drive to Covington."  

"Ah." Understanding dawned in his friend's eyes. "Looks like it’s just you and me then. You can dish all about your _lover_." There wasn't any way to get around this, so Castiel stood to the side and let Balthazar into the house with a resigned expression. 

Not caring that he was in his clothes from the previous night, Dean slid the Impala into the parking lot of the hospital. It wasn't until he was in the elevator on his way to the labor and delivery floor that he remembered he hadn't showered. He lifted his arms and sniffed. Okay, not entirely fresh, but he was pretty sure he didn't smell like sex. At the desk, he got Mari's room number and found his brother pacing outside the door. "What's up?" Dean asked, pulling his hulking brother into a hug. 

"The doctor is checking her cervix and..." 

Dean covered his ears. "Ahh... Lalalalalalala... TMI, dude." Sam rolled his eyes and resumed his pacing. Dean leaned against the wall and watched him. He already looked like he was tweaking out on caffeine. "How much coffee have you had?" 

"Don't know. Three... maybe four. We got here at four this morning, Dean. I need to stay awake." 

And so the waiting began. Mari was in good spirits and between the two of them, they kept Sam from losing his mind, mostly by making fun of him, or in Mari's case, bitching about how everything was his fault. The morning dragged on with nurses coming and going. He'd checked in with Cas once already. When they came to check Mari's dilation... whatever the hell that was, Dean stepped into the hall and walked down to the vending machines. He was drinking his Coke when it hit him like a gut punch. He coughed and started choking so hard, a passing member of the housekeeping staff smacked him on the back and asked if he was okay. He nodded and after she left, he put his back to the wall and sank to the floor. In the heat of the moment, he'd told Cas that he loved him. No, scratch that, he'd basically screamed it out. No wonder Cas had given him that look of horror. Sure, they'd shared a moment and Dean thought they were an official couple, but the L-word? Fuck… You didn't say that shit until... well, until... just not after a _week_. He put his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. "Are you okay, Sweetheart?" A voice floated down from above him. He looked up and tried to smile. 

"Yeah." The heavyset woman didn't look convinced. Her dark skin was a beautiful shade of chocolate, and she was dressed in a colorful dress. 

"You look a bit green." There was something about her. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he suddenly found himself spewing out the entire story. When he was done, she gave him a soft, knowing smile. "Well, perhaps it was meant to be." 

"Huh?" After his whole tale, this is all he got? _It was meant to be?_  

"Come with me," she said, indicating one of the brightly colored tables in the snack area. He stood up reluctantly and followed her. When he sat down, she reached for his hand. It dawned on him then. She was one of _those_. New Orleans was full of so-called psychics and other charlatans, all trying to make a quick buck off the tourists. He tried to pull away and opened his mouth to tell her he wasn't interested, but her next words stopped him cold. "The written word." She looked up from his palm. "That's how you make your living, isn't it?" 

"Did Sam put you up to this?" His eyes darted around the area looking for Sam. When he finally looked at her again, her expression was thoughtful. 

"Boy, please… I ain't here for you. But I'm gonna do you a favor because you look troubled in your soul, and I hate to see such a pretty face carrying so much worry." She said it so matter-of-factly that he found himself believing her. Her fingertip moved over his palm, but her eyes remained on his. "New life is coming." She smiled, white teeth a sharp contrast to her complexion. Dean couldn't speak. Was she talking about Oliver? "You’re scared, child. Don't be. He's a good man." She closed her eyes and a soft smile touched her lips. "A love like this is rare. It will last a lifetime." Dean swallowed hard and looked down at his hand. She was still touching it. She made a humming sound, a song maybe... and then she opened her eyes. "Go on now... that new child awaits." Dean stood up and reached for his wallet, but she narrowed her eyes at him. "Go, boy." 

Dean practically ran down the hall to Mari's room. When he got there, a nurse grabbed his arm before he could go inside. "You need to gown up, uncle." 

The next hour passed in a blur. Mari was moved to another room and everyone was wearing gowns and masks, including Dean. He stood on one side of her with Sammy on the other, each of them taking turns stroking her hair back from her sweaty brow. She squeezed their hands with each contraction, and Dean would have given anything to take away her pain. At the first cry, Dean felt tears in his eyes as he stared at his brother, openly crying as he cut the cord.  

When the excitement was over and they each held Oliver for the first time, Dean left the little family to head home. He felt euphoric.  

At home, he showered because now he smelled like a hospital, old sweat, _and_ a hint of sex… not a great combination. When he was dressed in a pair of jeans, he picked up his phone and walked out onto his deck barefoot. It was five o'clock, so Cas was probably busy with the dinner service. He typed out a text instead of calling. 

 **Text to Cas/5:01 – Oliver here. 8 lbs. 22" long. Mom and son are** **g** **reat :-)**  

He leaned against the railing and watched the water lapping against the pilings, remembering another rail... another day... _Cas_. His phone pinged, pulling him out of his musings. 

 **Text from Cas/5:06 – Wonderful news. Please tell Sam and Mari congratulations for me.**  

 **Text to Cas/5:07 – I will.**  

 _Can I come back tonight? Let me spend the night again. I miss you. I love you._ There were so many things he wanted to say. He didn't. Instead, he went inside and poured it into his writing. When the night sounds registered, he stretched and looked at the digital clock on his computer screen… eleven. He could still make it to the city before midnight. What if Cas had plans though? Fuck it. 

 **Text to Cas/10:59 - Can I come see you?**  

He didn't even have time to set his phone down before it pinged. 

 **Text from Cas/10:59 – Y** **es!** **Call when you get close.**  

Grinning stupidly, Dean threw on a shirt and shoes, packed a bag and was driving across the causeway in less than fifteen minutes. With the windows down and a Metallica cassette blaring on the stereo, Dean made good time. There wasn't much traffic going across the lake at this time of night. Once in the city, he called Cas. "Hello, Dean." And _holy shit_ , that husky voice affected him every time... 

"Hey, babe, I'm in the city." He merged into eastbound traffic. 

"Good, just come to the restaurant." 

 

"Cool. See you in a few." He hung up and navigated his way to The Delta. The small guest parking lot was empty, but he saw the house lights still on. He rolled up his windows, locked the car, and walked to the entrance. It was locked, so he peered inside. Balthazar was standing at the register and waved as he made his way to the door and unlocked it.  

 

"Hello there, Dean. Come on in. Cassie’s in the kitchen." Dean walked through the eerily empty restaurant and pushed open the swinging doors. The room was a lot different from the last time he was here... was it just last night? Cas and the petite brunette that did the desserts were the only ones in the place, and they were talking quietly. The woman didn't look happy, but neither did Cas. Dean held back until Cas saw him. The smile lit up his face, but the woman looked even more pissed off now.  

 

Cas left her and came toward Dean, holding out his hands. Dean took them and pulled Cas into his arms. Cas kissed him soundly, leaving Dean a bit breathless. "I'm glad you're here," Cas told him, releasing his hold. "I just have to go over a few things with Zar and then we can go home." _Home_?  

 

"Take your time. I don't have anywhere to be." Cas took his hand and led him into the office. Dean had _very_ pleasant memories about this room. By his smirk, Cas was thinking the same thing. Seeing Cas behind the desk reminded him that this was a business. A lucrative business.  

 

Balthazar interrupted his thoughts as he sailed through the door. He had a roll of cash register tape and a bank bag. "Twelve hundred tonight." 

 

Dean stared in disbelief. "Twelve hundred dollars? In _one night_?" Both of the other men looked at him.  

 

"It was slow for a Saturday," Balthazar deadpanned. "Usually, we do close to two thousand." 

 

"Wow... that's... awesome." Yep, Cas was pretty well off. Balthazar turned away from him and started talking numbers to Cas, so Dean leaned back and let his mind wander.  

 

"And what on earth did you say to Hannah? She was miffed about something and just stormed out." Those words brought Dean's attention back to them. He tried not to look too curious. He failed miserably. 

 

"She said something incredibly inappropriate," Cas said coolly, and now Dean wasn't even trying to hide his curiosity. 

"Some people cannot take the hint, Cassie. Should I counsel her?"  

"No, she’s my responsibility." Cas began talking about invoices and distributors, and Dean was lost again. His mind was on the brunette instead. Whatever happened, it was obvious that Cas wasn't happy about it at all. 

 

The dinner service went quite well. No problems came up and everything went out on time. He'd gotten a text from Dean about the arrival of his nephew right as the restaurant was opening, and he wished he was there to share in their happiness.  

 

The kitchen pushed out its last meal of the evening at ten-thirty, which was early for a Saturday night. He and the staff began to break down the kitchen and get the cleaning started. He was taking stock of supplies in the walk-in when Hannah entered the tight space, blocking his exit. Clipboard in hand, he looked up. "What can I do for you, Hannah?" 

 

"Tomorrow is my birthday." She had removed her smock and stood there in a very tight cropped t-shirt, showing off her taut belly. Nothing was unusual about that since the kitchen was a hot place to work. That was why he wore nothing under his pants and chef's jacket. 

 

"Yes, it’s on my calendar. We planned on celebrating it Tuesday night when we’re all back at work." The Delta closed on Sundays and Mondays to give the staff a needed rest. Whenever they had a birthday, Cas would bring a cake and champagne for his employees, and they’d have a small party after the restaurant closed. He usually gave a small birthday gift as well. 

 

"I'm having a get-together at my place tomorrow night. I was hoping you could come." She moved closer and touched his bare wrist. He moved away, suddenly feeling cornered and very uncomfortable. 

 

"I have plans, but thank you for asking." Cas had been out drinking with other members of his staff before, but never with Hannah. Her crush on him was the reason. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to finish up. If you're done with your station, you can go on home." He ended it with a smile. He didn't want problems to arise and hated hurting anyone's feelings. She moved aside and let him escape. 

 

When Dean's text came through, he couldn't help but feel excited. He'd wanted to ask Dean to come stay with him, but he figured Dean would be busy with his family. It warmed his heart that Dean was the one to ask. 

 

The staff began leaving one by one, leaving only him and Hannah. He could see that her station was clean, so there was no reason for her to remain. He had a bad feeling about this. He looked at the clock, feeling more anxious by the minute. As if knowing Cas needed him, Dean called. Cas picked up on the first ring and sighed with relief to hear that Dean was almost here. 

 

"Was that your new boyfriend?" Hannah's voice was frosty and had an unpleasant edge to it.  

 

Keeping his cool, he met her eyes. "My private life is not really your business, Hannah." 

 

"What does he have that I don't?" she asked petulantly. Castiel took a deep breath before answering. Did she have some sort of mental issue that he wasn't aware of? She knew he was gay. He'd made that very clear. He decided to take a more direct approach to shut this down once and for all, thinking maybe shock value would work. 

 

"A dick," he answered shortly. Balthazar might be upset that he was walking a fine line regarding their sexual harassment policy, but he didn't care. He was so done with this craziness. She inhaled sharply and clenched her fists as she moved closer to him. _Please, Dean, hurry up_. 

 

"There are things I can do for you,” she said as she raised her hand like she was going to touch him. _God, please no_. 

 

"Hannah, stop. Just… _stop_." Cas heard the doors swing open. _Dean_. Dean was finally here. He walked away from Hannah without another word. He pulled Dean close and poured all of his passion into kissing him, making sure there was no way for her to misunderstand his feelings for Dean. 

 

In the office, Balthazar brought her up by asking what her problem was, and Castiel did _not_ want to discuss it in front of Dean. He knew he would have to counsel her, and a letter would go into her employee file. As her boss, he could not let conversations like that one happen again. He quickly got the deposit ready for Monday and gave the bank bag to Balthazar. When they came out of the office, thankfully Hannah was gone. 

 

Once again, Castiel led the way to his house with Dean following closely behind. This time, Castiel needed to unwind. His shoulders were tense and he needed a drink. He watched Dean's face as he saw the kitchen for the first time. This was the room that had taken the longest to renovate. Castiel needed it to be perfect, and he took great care to ensure it was. "Is that a pizza oven?" Dean asked, staring in wide-eyed amazement at the stone oven built into the wall. Castiel felt a rush of pride. 

 

"Pizza is my guilty pleasure,” he replied with a shy smile. He recalled how Fergus had called it a waste of space and money, but Castiel was adamant and wouldn't give in. For once, Fergus had lost the argument and sulked like an infant for weeks over it. _Good riddance_. Castiel returned his focus to the man who meant so much to him now. Castiel watched Dean walk around the space, touching the professional grade Viking range, the granite counters, and the copper pots hanging from above the island. Finally, he looked up.  

 

"I can see myself here, cooking you breakfast. I might not be a big-time, fancy-pants chef, but I can cook a mean pancake," he said with a smug little grin and a wink. _Adorable_. Castiel could imagine that, too… and so much more. He knew right then and there what he wanted. He walked around the island to stand in front of him. It was now or never... Castiel cleared his throat and raised his eyes to Dean’s. 

 

"I want that, Dean. I want to see you in here with me. I want..." Dean's expression softened, and Castiel decided to go all in. "I love you, Dean." 

 

The room was silent. Dean dropped his gaze to the floor. Castiel stood frozen in dread. After a minute that felt like an eternity, Dean swallowed and looked up into Castiel's eyes.  

 

"You… love me?" Dean whispered, his expression gentle. Castiel could only nod. Dean let out a shaky laugh. "Well, that's awesome, because I love you too, Cas. So Goddamn much. I know it's fucking crazy..." Castiel cut him off with a kiss. In that moment, he felt more joy in his heart than he could have ever dreamed was possible for one person to feel.  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to keep this story full of fluff, but my muse thought differently - the bitch. So, there is a bit of drama here. Just a touch. I'd plan to wrap this one up in a bow with just one more chapter, but now, you might get about three more. Sorry to disappoint.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are heating up for our boys, but with the sunshine, some rain must fall...
> 
> Hey, don't judge - the show can use foreshadowing, why can't I?

Mutual confessions of love... jeez, it sounded so hokey. Dean could have put it a bit more eloquently if he was writing it, but hey, he was off duty. Eloquence was overrated when sex was inevitable. The way Dean saw it, they didn't need flowery words to fill the air between them as they kissed. He could say everything he felt without using words at all.  

 

Cas lifted him onto the granite island, and Dean gasped because that was sexy as _fuck_. He spread Dean's thighs and stepped between them, content to nuzzle Dean's neck. Dean wasn't going to complain. He leaned into the touch, basking in Cas’ warmth. Dean yawned, which brought Cas' attention to Dean's face. "You must be exhausted. I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking."  

 

"I'm al--" Another yawn betrayed Dean's denial. “Shit…” Dean wanted so badly to wrap around Cas and take in the man he loves, but his tired body had other ideas. Cas took his hands and stepped back, tugging Dean off the counter. They moved up the stairs and undressed themselves, going about a nightly routine like they'd been together for years. The few times Dean had stayed the night with someone in the past, it was always uncomfortable, but with Cas, it all seemed normal _._ No, not normal _… right_. 

 

Lying in bed, the lamplight illuminating the planes of Cas' face, Dean moved closer and sighed in contentment. He let his hands caress Cas' chest and said softly, "How'd I get so lucky?" 

 

Cas shook his head and whispered back, "I believe I am the lucky one, Dean." He put a fingertip over Dean's lips to silence any arguments, and Dean playfully nipped the fingertip before drawing it fully into his mouth. He sucked on it, his eyes never leaving Cas' magnetic gaze. Cas' nostrils flared, his jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened. "I’m trying to be chivalrous and let you get some rest, but you are _not_ being fair." Dean gave him a look of pure innocence as he released Cas' finger, slick with his spit.  

 

"I don't know what you mean. I'm only showing my boyfriend some affection. But now that you mention it, I'd sleep _much_ better if we did a bit of exercise... you know, to make sure we're good and tired. Some cardio, maybe?" Dean punctuated his words with light nips to Cas’ other fingers. Cas looked at him menacingly, but the affection in his eyes betrayed him. 

 

"Cardio, huh? What did you have in mind?" Cas ran the tip of a spit-slick finger down Dean's chest, pausing to drag the nail slowly around Dean's navel before continuing his journey down the thin line of hair, stopping just shy of Dean's hardening cock. Before Dean could answer, Cas spoke again, his tone deeper but measured and calm. "Perhaps we could fuck each other hard and fast so you can go to sleep sooner?” Then he leaned closer to Dean's ear, practically growling. “Or maybe you would like me to take my time fucking you… I could make it so slow… drag it out until you're begging me for release." He bypassed Dean's cock and pressed into the sensitive spot behind his balls. Dean could have come just from that voice alone… _Fuck, it was sexy._ Dean's mouth opened in a pleased gasp as he tried to reply. If only he could remember how to use words…  

 

Cas bit down on his ear lobe and Dean did _not_ squeal… _nope_. He tried to focus on Cas’ words. “Well, Dean? Which is it… am I fucking you hard and fast, or am I fucking you slowly?” He kept his finger pressed firmly on the same spot, and Dean started breathing faster. 

 

"Yeah... uh, that would be... good... yeah, slow is good." Dean spread his legs wantonly.  

 

Cas licked his lips and rolled to his back so he could reach the drawer. _The drawer_ … where all the good things were kept. But _goddamnit_ , he was just too tired to play much tonight. He'd been up since before the buttcrack of dawn and it was well after midnight now. He fought a yawn, but Cas saw the struggle and frowned. "Dean, please get some rest. We have the entire day tomorrow." 

 

"Really?" Dean propped up on his elbows. "The Delta isn't open on Sundays?" 

 

"No, nor Mondays." _Two full days_. They could play with every single thing in _the drawer_ and still have time for food... and maybe a visit to introduce Cas to Oliver.  

 

"You have enough food in the house to sustain us for two days?" Dean leered comically. 

 

"No. I'll have to do a grocery run. If you want, we could go out for breakfast and pick up a few things before coming back here to 'relax'." Cas did air quotes and Dean couldn't help smiling at how adorable it was. He yawned again. “Dean, it's no fun for either of us if you're too tired to enjoy it.” Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Cas held up a hand to silence him. “I insist you take care of yourself, no further discussion.” His tone was firm and made no room for argument. Dean was seriously turned on and once again cursed his tired body…   

 

"Okay, okay… sleep now, play later," he mumbled and closed his eyes.  

 

The only thing he remembered after that was the brush of Cas' lips over his and a whispered, "I love you, Dean." 

 

When he awoke, Cas' side of the bed was empty. He got up and went to the bathroom for a piss. He ran his toothbrush over his teeth to get rid of morning breath and then slipped on his boxers, these had a Mako shark on them. Dean looked in the mirror and started humming the theme from Jaws while thrusting his pelvis forward and back. And that was how Cas found him, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Good morning, Dean." 

 

"Shut up," Dean muttered, feeling his face heat up. Cas held up his hands in a placating manner. 

 

"I didn't say a word." Cas was dressed in a pair of worn, plaid pajama pants and nothing else. 

 

"Yeah, well, you were thinking it." Dean brushed by Cas, thrusting his pelvis forward into Cas’ backside as he hummed the Jaws theme once more. He was halfway across the bedroom when Cas ran— _yes, ran_ —up behind him, did a body check, and propelled both of them onto the bed. " _Get off me! You—“_ Cas began tickling Dean and he couldn't finish. Soon he was laughing so hard he couldn't catch his breath. Cas stared down at him, hand poised over Dean's ribs, and suddenly it was like a switch was flipped. The air crackled with electricity, then both men collided together, kissing and groping each other, clawing at waistbands until both were bare and hard. Cas rose above Dean and rutted against him, his cock moving alongside Dean's at a frenzied pace. Dean's chest heaved with exertion as he clung to Cas' shoulders like his life depended on it. Cas' eyes locked on his own.  

 

"I love you," he said with such conviction, Dean actually felt it. How could he ever put this feeling into words? Dean reached up and touched Cas' face reverently.  

 

"I love you too," Dean whispered and hoped Cas could feel what he was feeling. Cas reached between them, wrapping his long fingers around their cocks. He stroked them hard and fast, thrusting his cock against Dean's, sending him over the edge in a violent rush of heat and electricity he felt to his toes. Cas followed moments after with a loud, guttural scream. His breath coming in short, shallow gasps, Cas held himself up just long enough to press his lips to Dean's before rolling to the side and landing next to him. He entwined their fingers, and they stayed that way… long after their heartbeats returned to normal... long after the sweat dried on their skin... long after the evidence of their orgasms cooled.  

 

Dean thought he must have drifted off, but he wasn't sure. When he could focus again, the black drapes had been opened to allow the sun to stream into the room. Cas wasn't in bed, but on his pillow was a single, orange Gerber daisy. Dean picked it up and smiled. _The sap._   

 

 

Castiel wiped them both clean and watched Dean doze for a long time. He snored soft puffs of air, not the loud, obnoxious kind. Castiel kept his face resting on his hand and took in the gentle rise and fall of Dean's chest. He thought he could watch Dean sleep for hours and never get bored or feel the need to move. The need to pee told him otherwise.  

 

Once up, Castiel dressed in the same pajama pants he wore earlier and padded downstairs. He wrote out his shopping list. As he stood at the back door debating whether to cook something simple for dinner that evening or maybe strive for something a bit fancy -- okay, yes, he wanted to impress Dean -- he saw the small clump of colorful daisies in his neighbor's yard. The Mills family, a single mom and her two daughters, were Catholic, and after glancing at the clock on his microwave, he knew they would still be at church. He jumped the chain link fence and took the time to pet their Beagle, Peanut, before picking one of the pretty flowers.  

 

Back in his own house, he took the stairs two at a time. Dean was still sprawled across his bed, arms stretched out wide, sheet pushed down to his waist. He put the flower on the pillow next to Dean's head and went down to the kitchen again. He fixed coffee and when it was finished, he poured himself a cup, adding a splash of milk and three spoonfuls of sugar. He'd taken his first sip when he heard Dean's tread on the stairs. He set his mug down and got another out of the cabinet. "Is that coffee I smell?" Dean's voice was raspy, probably from both the sleep and the hot sex. 

 

"It is," Castiel confirmed before turning to greet him. Dean was holding the flower, and the sight of it filled Castiel with warmth. If he thought Dean would allow it, he would shower the man with gifts. Dean wasn't like that though. He was an uncomplicated man who loved the simple things in life. Dean folded him into his arms and kissed him with a gentleness that belied his size and strength. 

 

"Thank you," he said softly, indicating the flower. 

 

"You are more than welcome, Dean." Dean set the flower on the counter and began fixing his coffee. Castiel remembered having a small bud vase somewhere... He opened and closed a few cabinets until he found it tucked behind some crystal champagne flutes he hadn't used in years. He filled it with water and placed the daisy in the vase on the center island, and he stood back to look at it. Dean was smiling over the rim of his mug. Without a word, Dean went to the back door and looked out. When he turned back around, he was grinning.  

 

"You stole it from your neighbor? _Damn_ , Cas, I didn't know I had such a criminal for a boyfriend," he teased. Castiel tried to look contrite, but he knew he failed when Dean burst out laughing. Castiel found himself telling Dean about his neighbor, Jodi and her two teenagers. He talked about the older couple on the other side who just celebrated their fiftieth anniversary.  

 

"I hired a car to bring them to The Delta for a romantic dinner, my gift to them for being such a shining example of commitment for the rest of us," Castiel said with a grin, pouring himself another cup of coffee. 

 

"See, shit like that is what made me fall in love with you," Dean told him, taking the mug out of his hand and pulling him into a hug. "You, Castiel Novak, are a big softy." 

 

"My staff might disagree," Castiel responded, letting his chin rest on Dean's shoulder. "I can be an asshole when things don't go my way." Dean pulled back a bit to see his face, and Castiel could have kicked himself when Dean asked about Hannah. 

 

"Yeah, so that reminds me… What was Zar talking about last night? Did Hannah do something wrong?" Castiel leaned back against the counter, pulling Dean with him, so the other man was pressed against his chest. Dean must have sensed Castiel's reluctance because he added, "Hey, it's really none of my business, so don't feel like you have to share... _business_...stuff. 

 

"Hannah imagines herself to be in love with me," Castiel admitted, keeping his answer short and praying Dean would let it go. "And I don't want you to be afraid to ask me about anything, Dean. Including my business." 

 

"She knows you're gay... I mean she saw us..." Understanding dawned. "Oh, so _that's_ why you laid that super-hot kiss on me last night." 

 

"I don't want to hurt her, Dean, but she doesn't seem to understand... no matter how many times I've explained it to her. I was a bit desperate to prove the point. I'm sorry." 

 

"Hey, no need to apologize, Cas. If I knew she wanted you like that, I would have staked my claim a bit more forcefully than you did." Dean left a trail of kisses along Castiel's jawline before continuing. "Do you think she gets it now?" 

 

"I hope so. I will have to counsel her and put a letter in her employee file. If she says or does anything else, I will have to let her go and I'd hate that. Hannah is very good at what she does, and despite her making me feel uncomfortable, she really is a good at her job." 

 

"Hmm..." Dean made a rumbling sound in his throat and then stepped back. "Let's go eat. I'm starving. Last one ready buys!" Dean called out as he took off at a run.  

 

"You're worse than a child!" Castiel yelled to his retreating back. "I'm not playing this stupid game... _shit_." He sprinted after Dean, bare feet slapping on the wood floors. Dean was already halfway up the stairs. Castiel was in excellent shape, and he vaulted over the railing, putting him within touching distance of Dean. When they reached the bedroom, they were neck-and-neck, both laughing like children. Castiel blocked Dean from the shower and they playfully slapped at each other. Castiel was laughing so hard, he could barely breathe. When was the last time someone made him laugh like this? _Never?_  

 

Castiel's shower was big enough for two and they bantered back and forth while they washed each other, their touches filled with affection. There was nothing sexual,  but Castiel couldn't help openly admiring Dean's body. His tan lines took Castiel back to the cruise and how Dean looked on that nude beach... or relaxing by the pool. Out of all the men on that ship, he'd met the one person that made his life complete… and he would never stop feeling grateful for that. 

 

 

When was the last time Dean had this much fun with a lover? The answer was easy. _Never_. The tickling and the easy, teasing banter... that was real, not an act. Dean was _happy_. He hadn’t exactly been _unhappy_ as long as he had Sam by his side, but this? This was different. He glanced over at Cas as he stared through the windshield. "Turn left on Claiborne," Cas said, pointing to the cross street coming up. Dean signaled and turned as directed. The sign on the store said _Robért_ _Fresh Market_.  

 

"What, New Orleans doesn't have a Walmart or Winn-Dixie?" By the looks of this place, it was probably expensive and had crap like _organic_ vegetables or _quinoa_... whatever the hell that shit was. 

 

"You cannot find quality produce at a place like Walmart," Cas said, already unbuckling his seat belt. Dean kind of liked the thrill he got from ruffling Cas’ feathers, so he huffed and pulled the keys from the ignition. The Impala looked out of place among the hybrid cars and mini-vans, but the two ridiculously attractive men exiting the car got plenty of admiring looks from the MILFs in workout clothes...and even some of the DILFs, Dean noticed.  

 

Once inside, Dean's nightmare came true. It was a place where the words _organic_ , _grass-fed_ , and _farm fresh_ were displayed at every turn. There was no chance of him finding any decent junk food here. Dean let out a sigh, grabbed a shopping cart, and followed Cas, content to watch Cas fondle the vegetables. Dean started to make a few lewd comments, but he was too fascinated with the level of focus Cas was displaying. He was all business as he shopped, and Dean had to give him credit… Cas was efficient, and within twenty minutes, they were back in the car. 

 

A day of good food and good sex awaited them. Dean should feel a bit guilty. He really needed to write. It _was_ his job, and he was a few thousand words from his goal. But it couldn't hurt to take a couple of days off... 

 

They spent most of the rest of the day in bed. Cas had a way of making foreplay last hours without the frustration that usually came with it. When they weren't busy touching or kissing, Cas would put him to work in the kitchen. The food wasn't elaborate – no pheasant under glass or crazy shit like Rocky Mountain oysters – no, Cas made him a burger that brought tears to his eyes. Smoked cheese, avocado slices, and onion straws turned simple ground beef into a work of art.    

 

After eating and cleaning up the kitchen, Dean asked Cas to play for him. "What do you want to hear?" He asked, settling himself on the bench, his hands coming to rest above the keys.  

 

"Whatever you feel like playing," Dean answered, leaning on the piano and smiling. Cas nodded and touched his fingers to the keys. It took a few seconds before Dean recognized the song. ' _If_ ' never sounded so good. Dean hummed along for a while, getting lost in the way Cas played, moving his elegant fingers so effortlessly. Before he knew it, he was singing the last verse.  

 

 ** _If a man could be two places at one time,_**    
 ** _I'd be with you._**    
 ** _Tomorrow and today, beside you all the way._**    
 ** _If the world should stop revolving spinning slowly down to die,_**    
 ** _I'd spend the end with you._**    
 ** _And when the world was through,_**    
 ** _Then one by one the stars would all go out,_**    
 ** _Then you and I would simply fly away_**  

Cas stopped playing and looked up at him with something like awe. Suddenly embarrassed, Dean blushed and looked away. "Dean, your voice is... it's truly _amazing_. I had no idea you could sing like that." 

 

"I'm not trained or anything. I just do it when I'm playing my guitar sometimes." He didn't say that he'd spent many lonely nights on his deck strumming his guitar and singing into the empty night. Having someone appreciate his voice was something new, but not unwelcome. He’d spent so much of his life feeling like a fuck-up… it was nice to hear someone complimenting him for a change.  

 

"I'd love for you to bring it here. I have some sheet music for piano with guitar accompaniment. I would enjoy playing with you, Dean." 

 

"Yeah, well, you played with me all afternoon," Dean said, wiggling his eyebrows. As always, he masked his emotions with ill-placed humor. "Hey, want to watch a movie or something?" Cas looked disappointed at Dean's deflection, but he stood up anyway. 

 

Cas had one of the new smart TVs, and Dean browsed Netflix looking for something decent to watch. They settled on Dean's favorite Stephen King movie, _The Shining_. About halfway in, Cas paused it and got up to make popcorn. Ever the gourmet chef, he couldn't even let himself do the microwave kind like everyone else. Cas used a large pot with flavored oil and seasoned it with chili powder and lime zest. It was completely ridiculous and tasted _fucking awesome_. 

 

When the credits rolled by, Dean didn't want to move. They'd both had a few beers and were snuggled down into the couch. "Hey, Cas…wanna make out?" Cas moved to get up, but Dean held him fast. "I meant here."   

 

"I would not be opposed to 'making out' with you, Dean," Cas said dryly, making Dean laugh at the damn air quotes. He pulled Cas close and nuzzled his neck. He felt Cas shiver, and Dean swirled his tongue around the shell of his ear. Cas let out a soft moan of pleasure. _Aha_... Dean found one of Cas' sweet spots, and he planned on fully using it to his advantage. Their hands roamed across each other's bodies, and soon breathing turned to panting. Slow, languid kisses became faster, harder, and their tongues fought for dominance, teeth nipping at already swollen lips. Through it all, they whispered words of encouragement and affection... words of promise and _love_. 

 

Dean's cock was straining against the cloth of his sweats, but he didn't want to stop touching Cas long enough to undress and go upstairs. Cas was the one who broke away first. He slid to the floor and slipped his hands into Dean's waistband. Dean lifted his hips and Cas pulled them off, only to fling them across the room. He took a moment to yank down his sleep pants and tossed them aside as well. He pushed Dean's thighs apart and engulfed Dean's hard length into his wet, hot mouth. Dean arched up. "God, _Cas_..." He watched as Cas' tongue flicked the underside of his tip, then swirled up and dipped into his slit, and it nearly sent him over the edge. Dean let out a filthy moan and hissed, "Yeah, baby... _suck me_... _uhn_ , just like that." He watched as Cas hollowed out his cheeks to add suction, his fingers wrapped around the base moving up and down in time with his mouth. Dean ran his fingers through the unruly hair and slid his hand down to gently caress Cas’ face. Like a prayer, he whispered, " _Cas_ , you're so good to me..."  

 

Cas made giving head an art form. He wasn't out to just get the job done and over with. He licked and sucked and teased until Dean was a shuddering mess. He would drive Dean to the brink of orgasm and then abruptly change his technique. Being edged for so long was exhausting and exhilarating all at once. Dean _needed_ to come. Closing his eyes, he ran his fingernails across his chest, loving the sharp sensation on his hardened nipples. When Cas hummed his appreciation for the show, Dean pinched them hard enough to hurt and his hips bucked in response. Cas began sucking him like it was his fucking _job_. He took Dean's cock further and further down his throat, and Dean had to open his eyes to watch. Cas looked up, his blue eyes darkened with a lust that was almost feral. Dean felt his balls tighten as he got closer to his release. "Don't stop, Cas... _please_..." Dean felt absolute bliss at Cas having so much control over him, but he couldn't take it if Cas made him edge any longer. Cas' mouth was wet and sloppy now, spit and pre-cum on his chin making his face slick and hot as fuck. Dean watched the head of his cock disappear into Cas’ hot mouth over and over, _in and out_ …  Unable to concentrate, his hands dropped from his nipples to the couch, his nails digging into the thick fabric. He knew he couldn't hold back any longer.  

 

“ _Please, Cas_ … _let me come_ _..._ ” Dean both felt and heard the growl come from deep in Cas' throat. Without hesitation, Cas pressed his hands on Dean's thighs, pinning him down as he swallowed Dean's cock, deep-throating it all the way down to the base. He worked his tongue fiercely as he swallowed around Dean's dick, then twisted his mouth sharply to the side. Dean _screamed_ and time stopped. He didn't just fall into the abyss; no, he tumbled head over heels, gasping for air, his heart pounding like it was about to burst from his chest. 

 

He was vaguely aware of Cas pumping his arm, and he tried to tell him to stop. Dean wanted to be the one to get him off, but he couldn't speak. Through half-lidded eyes, he watched Cas throw his head back, baring his throat as he groaned in ecstasy. He leaned on one hand and angled forward as he shot his orgasm all over Dean's cock. _Holy fuck_. Cas’ body relaxed as he sank to his knees again, resting his head on Dean's thigh. Dean listened to the sound of them breathing heavily, and he somehow managed to reach a hand out to comb his fingers through Cas' disheveled mop of hair.  

 

They got up a few minutes later, both feeling euphoric as they cleaned up the empty bottles and bowls from their evening movie. In the kitchen, they stopped to hold each other and kiss against the counter before drinking a bottle of water. Dean watched Cas' Adam's apple bob up and down with each swallow and Goddamn, the man even drank like a porn star. He couldn't hold back his smile and felt his heart swell. At that moment, Cas’ eyes met his, and they both broke into a knowing laugh, obviously done playing it cool. Cas held out his hand, and Dean took it and followed Cas upstairs to bed.  

 

Cas was the first to fall asleep that night, leaving Dean to turn off the lamp. As he laid in the dark, all Dean could think about was sharing a life with Cas. _A future with Cas_ … 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song referenced is "IF" by David Gates. If you've never heard it, give it a listen. I think it is a beautiful love song.
> 
> My lovely editor, Amanda, and I have a few more surprises in store for you, so stay tuned for a few more chapters. Same bat time, same bat channel.


	15. Chapter 15

Castiel and Dean got up early on Monday and drove to Abita Springs. Mari and Sam were already home from the hospital and Dean insisted that he meet Oliver. It had been a couple of years since he’d been in the area, but it was still as beautiful as he remembered. He and Balthazar had driven up to the brewery for a tour then. Castiel prided himself on using local beer at The Delta, and Turbo Dog was a personal favorite. 

 

Dean drove down a tree lined lane and turned into a driveway. Castiel saw a large home painted the palest of yellows. The lawn was beautifully manicured and the two car garage stood open -- one side was empty, the other held a red Prius that he guessed belonged to Mari.  

 

They got out of the car, and Dean led them up the walk to the covered porch. At one end was a bench swing with a quilt tossed casually over the back of it. Dean banged on the door twice before opening it and yelling, "Hope you have clothes on, ‘cause I'm coming in!" 

 

Mari, dressed in a pale green sundress, greeted them from the sofa. "You better be glad the baby’s awake. If your loud mouth would have woken him up, I’d be capable of murder." Castiel noted the dark circles under her eyes. He knew enough about babies to understand that parents didn't get much sleep during the first few months. "Hi, Castiel. It's great to see you again." She moved to rise, but Castiel crossed over to her before she could stand. 

 

"Please, don't get up," he said, taking her outstretched hand and giving it a light squeeze. "Dean would not rest until I met the newest Winchester." 

 

Dean was already picking up the tiny human from a swinging contraption. "Hey, little man, Uncle Dean is here,” he said in a soft, indulgent tone. He cuddled the baby against his shoulder and moved toward Castiel. "This guy here, he's with me. Oliver, meet your Uncle Cas. When you get some teeth, he's going to rock your world, kid… because this dude can cook." Castiel stopped breathing when Dean used the word 'uncle' to introduce him. Being with Dean meant he had a family, and seeing Dean holding the baby gave him an ache in his chest. When he was with Fergus, he'd brought up children once... and only once. He stared down at the baby and saw dark eyes on him, as lips, in a perfect cupid's bow, moved in a sucking motion. Tiny hands waved helplessly, and Castiel was instantly in love. He reached his forefinger out and touched the downy hair. 

 

"It’s nice to meet you, Oliver," he said solemnly. His eyes met Dean's and saw something there he couldn’t identify… then he blinked and it was gone. Dean plopped down on the couch beside Mari, and Castiel took the recliner that he assumed was Sam's. Mari had muted the television when they arrived, and Castiel noticed The Chew was on. He'd had the pleasure of meeting Michael Symon and Mario Batali at a Food Network special filmed in New Orleans.  

 

"So, what are you two doing today besides visiting the new mommy?" Mari touched Oliver's foot that was kicking against Dean's chest. 

 

"Nothing much. I just wanted to introduce Cas to Oliver and maybe show him my place. We'll probably head back to the city this afternoon. Cas has to work tomorrow, so I guess I'll go home and write." Castiel caught a hint of sadness in Dean's voice. Was it the thought of writing or leaving Castiel? He wanted it to be the latter.  

 

"Why don't you two come over for dinner? Sam put Jambalaya in the crockpot this morning before he left for work." 

 

"Cas probably needs to get back before too late," Dean said, looking disappointed. 

 

"No, dinner would be great, Mari. Thank you for inviting me... us." 

 

Over the next hour, Castiel took the opportunity to get to know Mari better. He finally got to hold Oliver, but only when Mari scolded Dean for hogging the baby. When she yawned and mumbled something about taking a nap with Oliver, they took it as their cue to leave. 

 

The drive to Dean's house didn't take very long. He didn't really live in Abita Springs, his home was on a slough on the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain. "My buddy, Benny, let me rent his fishing cabin a few years ago. It's small and not much to look at, but it works for me," Dean told him, his voice a little defensive, as if he expected Castiel to find it lacking.  

 

The gravel road led to a break in the trees, and a small cabin sat nestled in between. It was built right on the water, and from the angle of the driveway, Castiel could see that the back deck was actually on pilings. Dean could fish right out of his back door, if he wanted. Like most of the surrounding area, tall oaks draped with Spanish moss made the place look like something from a bygone age. The outside air conditioning unit was the only thing that took away from the historic appeal. "Dean, this is lovely. You have so much privacy here." Castiel got out of the car and looked around. There were no other homes in sight. 

 

"Yeah, Benny's family bought up a bunch of land back in the '30s and managed to hold onto it." Dean stepped up on the porch and unlocked the door. The interior was small but clean. Castiel went straight to the windows in the back of the room. From there he could see further down the slough and in the other direction, the lake itself. Cypress trees rose out of the water and egrets stood in the shallows. It looked so peaceful. He wished he'd brought his camera. Smiling, he turned to see Dean standing stiffly in the middle of the room, biting his lip.  

 

"I love it, Dean. I wish I had my camera." Dean's tension seemed to melt away. "Can I see the rest?"  

 

Dean gave him the tour of his bedroom with the wrought-iron headboard and mismatched dresser and chest of drawers, the small galley kitchen that was spotless, and the extra bedroom that served as Dean's office. The desk faced the window where Dean had a view of the water, and there were multiple bookcases completely filled with books, one shelf dedicated to copies of Dean's. Cas ran his finger over the spines. "I cannot believe my boyfriend is a famous writer." It was the first time he'd used the word 'boyfriend' and he loved how it made Dean's face light up. 

 

"Hardly famous, Cas," he said, blushing a bit. "Not a huge market for people that like reading about two men falling in love and having lots of sex." 

 

Castiel wrapped his arm around Dean's waist and pulled him close. "Don't ever sell yourself short, Dean. You are talented, kind, and beautiful – inside and out. Like I said before, I'm lucky you're _mine_." He guided Dean toward the bedroom, blue eyes boring into green with hot intent. 

 

Stumbling into Dean's bedroom, they practically tore each other's clothes off before crashing to the bed. He would never get enough of seeing Dean like this... flushed, aroused, and on the verge of desperation. Castiel rose to straddle Dean's hips. He looked down at their cocks lying side by side against Dean's stomach. Dean was longer, but Castiel made up for it in girth. They were both cut and while he watched, a bead of precum appeared at Dean's slit. He reached down and gently stroked Dean's hair. "What do you want, Dean?" 

 

"You... can I..." Dean blushed and looked to the side, finding it difficult to speak his desires out loud. 

 

Castiel took pity on him and leaned down for a kiss. He slid his warm hands across Dean's chest to broad shoulders, stroked down from strong biceps to forearms, then he grasped Dean's wrists and held them above his head. When he lifted his lips, he leaned down to Dean's ear and growled, "Do you want to fuck me, Dean? Do you want to make me scream? _Do... you... Dean?_ " He purposely lowered his voice and punctuated his last question with small licks inside Dean's ear. He watched as Dean's eyes darkened with want. His mouth parted as he licked his lips and simply nodded. Slowly and deliberately, he crawled off Dean, staying on his hands and knees. Dean sat up and ran his hand over Castiel's flank. 

 

"You want it like this?" His words were soft, awestruck. 

 

"I want you to fuck me like you mean it, Dean," Castiel said, his eyes never leaving Dean's. Dean nodded and moved to the edge of the bed to open his nightstand. Castiel watched him take out a white tube of K-Y and a strip of condoms. Castiel sat back on his haunches and took the foil wrapped package from Dean. How would Dean feel about his next question? "Are you... clean?" 

 

Dean's eyes widened a fraction before nodding. "I had a physical earlier this year and when you're gay or bi, they test you as part of the routine." Dean's gaze fell to the condom still in Castiel's hand. "And I haven't been with anyone since," Dean said, still not meeting Castiel's eyes.  

 

"Dean, please, I'm not... I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or put you on the spot." Castiel lifted his hand and held out the condom. 

 

"No, it's cool." Dean didn't take it, so Castiel dropped it on the bed between them. "I just... I've never." He suddenly looked up. "Have you... uh… done that before?" 

 

Knowing what Dean was asking and knowing he could be honest with Dean, he said, "No. Fergus and I..." God, saying that bastard's name while in bed with Dean seemed like sacrilege. He met Dean's eyes, needing him to know he was telling the truth. "Even after moving in together, there was always something holding me back. Maybe in the back of my mind, I didn't trust him. I told myself it was a hygiene thing. Well that, and sex wasn't... after a few months, it stopped being..." Embarrassed and ashamed, Castiel looked away. "He said..."  

 

 _They'd gone to a dinner party. The invitation had come from one of Fergus' associates, and Castiel watched him fawn all over the man. The chicken tasted like rubber and the vegetables were overcooked. When he mentioned it, Fergus grew cold toward him. He left him alone to go laugh, and even dance with the other man._  

 

 _When they finally got home, Fergus was drunk. Castiel went to their room and undressed for bed. When Fergus crawled in beside him, he began to roughly stroke Castiel's cock. His breath stank of gin, and when Castiel pushed his hand away, Fergus got angry._  

 

 _"Sex with you has become such a fucking chore, Castiel. You are so Goddamned boring. Maybe if you loosened up a bit, I'd fuck you more often." He got out of bed and slammed the bedroom door, leaving Castiel so stunned he couldn't sleep._  

 

 _The next morning, he found Fergus passed out on the couch. Castiel left him there and went for a run. When he got back, Fergus was awake and apologetic. He assured Castiel that he was happy and didn't mean anything he said because he was drunk. After that, neither of them initiated sex. The few times it did happen, Castiel just went through the motions and hated every second of it, but he loved him. He had loved him, hadn’t he?_  

 

" _Cas_..." Dean moved over to him and touched his face, concern etched on his features. "You don't have to talk about it." He looked down at the condom again and with a flick of his finger, he sent it flying off the bed. "I trust you. _I love you._ " Castiel knew the mood was broken, but it didn't stop him from pulling Dean into his arms and pushing him down onto the mattress. Castiel settled his head on Dean's chest and began to talk. He told him everything. Dean stayed silent as he stroked Castiel's hair, and when emotions overwhelmed him, he would feel Dean's lips on his forehead. It meant everything to him. 

 

He must have drifted off, because he woke up to the sound of fingers on a keyboard. He dressed and found Dean in his office, intensely focused on whatever was on his screen. "How long have I been out?" Dean turned to him with a smile. 

 

"About an hour." Castiel moved further into the room and rested his hands on Dean's shoulders, giving them a brief massage. Dean let his head fall back and moaned softly. "I'll give you a lifetime to stop that." 

 

"I'll take it," Castiel said, leaning down to kiss the top of Dean's head. 

 

 

After Cas' confession, Dean felt a burning desire to strangle that bastard, Fergus. Cas was one of the most passionate men he'd ever met. Where did that asshole get off saying shit like that to him? _Probably trying to make up for his own shortcomings in the sack_ , he thought bitterly. 

 

He left Cas sleeping peacefully in his bed and dressed. He was sorry the mood was spoiled, and he blamed himself. His hesitation and that stupid question put a damper on what would have been some awesome sex… but he was glad Cas trusted him enough to tell him everything, no matter how painful. 

 

He returned his focus to his writing, and he had to admit the new book was progressing nicely. He found writing the sex scenes between Dimitri and Jensen was easier now that he wasn't in his self-imposed dry spell and had so much inspiration. He heard the squeak of the bedframe, so he knew Cas was awake. He stopped typing and stared at the words he'd written. He'd given the Russian a dominant personality and made Jensen more submissive. It was a little out of his comfort zone as a writer, but he wasn't making it over the top… just enough to make things _interesting_. "How long have I been out?" 

 

Dean smiled warmly as he turned to greet him. Rumpled with sleep, Cas was still so gorgeous. For the first time in his life, he wished he could paint or draw or even take pictures like Cas, just so he could capture the expressions on Cas’ beautiful face. He'd cover every wall in his house if he could. "About an hour," he replied. Cas came closer and Dean's first thought was to close the document. No one read his stuff until it was published except Mari, his editor, and Victor.  Something made his finger pause on the mouse. Cas trusted him and he trusted Cas. He decided there wasn't any part of his life he wanted to hide from Cas, so he left the document open. He sighed and leaned back as Cas' hands moved over his shoulders, rubbing out the kinks from leaning over his laptop so long. It felt _so damn good_. "I'll give you a lifetime to stop that." 

 

"I'll take it," Castiel said. He replayed his and Cas' words in his head. _A lifetime_. Was that what he wanted? Was it where this was headed? He stood up so fast, Cas was thrown off balance and he caught the wall to stay standing. He looked at Dean quizzically. 

 

"Sorry... just realized the time. Sam will be off work soon, so I thought we'd go over and help Mari get dinner ready," he said quickly, hoping it was enough to cover his panic. 

 

"Didn't she say it was in the crockpot?" Cas' question threw him. _What?_ Oh, yeah… _shit_. 

 

"Yeah... yeah, but she'll want bread and salad. They’re big on salads in that house." He shrugged. "Besides, I want to hold Oliver again." 

 

Cas' expression softened. "You love children, don't you?" 

 

"Well, sure," Dean answered truthfully. 

 

"Do you want your own someday?" Cas was blocking the way to the door, and Dean couldn't escape without looking like a lunatic. _Trust_.  

 

He took a deep breath. "I do. At least, I think I do. What about you?" Dean was curious now, and he found himself holding his breath as he waited for Cas to answer. He remembered the way Cas touched Oliver… like he was the most precious thing on the planet. Dean had stared at him and for a moment allowed himself to think about a future with children. _His and Cas' kids_. At least one, but two or three wasn't out of his realm of possibilities.  

 

"I did... but then... well, you know about my experience. I never really thought it would be an obtainable goal for me, given the state of my love life. But now..." He looked directly into Dean's eyes, and Dean suddenly knew Cas' next words were going to change his life forever. "With you, everything seems obtainable." 

 

" _Cas_..." Cas smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile. It was tinged with sadness. Dean couldn't, _wouldn't_ let Cas feel disappointed... not in him, not in life. "I do see a life with you. A future together... maybe with a rugrat or two.” He looked at Cas’ perfect face and took his hand. “I _want_ that." 

 

For a moment, there was an awkward silence as both men processed what they'd just revealed. Cas' face was pink, and Dean knew his was, too. "Well, Mari's probably wondering where the fuck we are..." 

 

"Yes. We should go." The air between them seemed thick… but as they drove down the road, their pinkies were entwined on the seat between them and both wore contented smiles. 

 

The weeks that followed grew into a blissfully happy routine. Dean wrote during the day at Cas' house, his laptop resting in its new home on Cas' dining room table. On Sunday mornings, they drove across the lake and holed up in Dean's cabin, sometimes taking the canoe out, but mostly just talking and making love. Late nights were spent exploring each other and sharing their deepest desires. The discussion of barebacking was tabled and Dean didn't have the nerve to bring it up again. _Not yet_.  

 

They did have a very interesting talk about secret kinks, which Dean enjoyed much more than he expected. Cas didn't laugh when Dean expressed his hidden desire to wear panties. In fact, Cas told him he'd love to see Dean in them, and by the hungry look in his eyes, Dean knew he wasn't lying. He'd only worn panties once, when a very kinky guy named Ron made him try them on. He found that he actually liked the silky feel on his cock, but he never felt comfortable enough to do it again. Cas' was a bit more complicated. He showed Dean a beautiful picture of a man trussed up in intricate knots. Kinbaku, the Japanese art of bondage using soft ropes laced in patterns and tied. Dean was fascinated, and they were both eager to explore this together. He suddenly realized he hadn't once felt fear or shame the entire time they talked, and it made him feel confident and free. 

 

Occasionally, they would fight. As with most couples, it was usually about stupid things. Both of them had a temper, but they learned from each other. Cas needed space when he was angry, while Dean needed a few drinks to calm down, so he could process. It wasn't perfect, but it worked for them. Even when they were pissed at each other, Dean still felt happier than he'd ever been. 

 

On Cas’ birthday, they had a small celebratory dinner with Sam and Mari at Gautreau’s. Dean wanted to include some of Cas’ friends from work, but Cas insisted that their normal employee party was enough for his friends. This year, Cas wanted a small dinner with just family. Dean didn't ask why. It was a fun night, but they didn't stay out long since Mari had to get back to feed Oliver. Driving back to Cas’ place, Dean decided tonight was the night.  

 

As they prepared for bed, Dean looked at Cas and cleared his throat. “Cas… um… Look, I know we haven't talked about it since… _before_ , but tonight I want to… um…” _Fuck, why couldn't he just say it?_ He clenched his fists and chose to nut up. “CasIthinkweshouldgobarebacktonight,” he blurted out in one breath.  

 

Cas’ eyebrows shot up and he froze in the middle of fluffing a pillow. “Okay… Are you sure?” 

 

“Cas, I've been sure since that day. It's your birthday, and at the risk of being cliché, I want this to be special. You mean everything to me, and today I'm so grateful you were born. I mean, I am every day, but especially today.” He felt himself blush and rubbed the back of his neck, eyes drifting to the floor. There wasn't a shy bone in his body, so why was he like this with Cas? _It was just sex._ Cas strolled over to Dean and slid his arms around his waist. Cas took a fingertip and lifted Dean's chin and he saw wonder and love glistening in Cas' baby blues. No, not _just_ sex. _This_ was so much more. It had been ever since the first time they were together on that cruise. 

 

“Dean… In my entire life, I have never had anyone say they were grateful for my birth.” Dean wrapped his arms around Cas and wanted to keep him like that forever… safe, protected, _loved_. Without saying a word, he bent down and kissed him softly. He moved his hand up into Cas’ hair as their kiss deepened. Cas licked across his bottom lip, and Dean opened to him. They began to devour each other as they removed their clothes. When they bared themselves to each other, Dean slowed things down to lower Cas onto the bed. Dean didn't normally take charge of their lovemaking, but tonight he wanted Cas to feel cherished and to show him how much he is loved.  

 

He started at Cas' feet, laying gentle kisses on top of each one. He caressed Cas’ calves, kissing and licking his way up his lover’s legs. He clutched both thighs with rough hands and sucked marks on the inside of each one. Dean continued worshipping his man, licking his way to those delicious hip bones. Cas let out a long, deep moan as he tightened his fists in the sheets. “Dean… _please_ …”  

 

Dean smiled and lifted his eyes to Cas’ as he lightly ran one finger down his scrotum, then pressed the tender spot below. He leaned down and engulfed Cas’ dick in his mouth, swallowing him down to the base. Cas moaned and dropped his head back on the pillows, closing his eyes in sheer bliss. Dean reached over and grabbed the lube, then began prepping himself while he nuzzled the underside of Cas’ thick cock. He pulled off and started licking up Cas’ firm abs, pausing just below his pecs to suck more marks into his skin. Cas gasped and gripped Dean by his hair. He hadn't noticed that Dean was nearly done prepping himself. Cas looked at him with hard, lust-filled eyes, and Dean knew he was pushing his luck with Cas’ patience. Never knowing when to give in, Dean smirked and moved his head down to Cas’ neck to run his tongue up to his ear. He bit the lobe and Cas let out a gasp as his grip on Dean's hair tightened ruthlessly. He growled low in his throat and Dean felt a thrill shoot down his spine. 

 

“ _Dean!_ If I'm not inside you within the next minute…” Dean chuckled, grabbed Cas’ cock, and impaled himself in one fluid motion. Cas cried out as he yanked Dean down by the hair to slam their mouths together in a kiss that was almost violent. He had completely lost control over feeling Dean around him, bare cock _finally_ touching the inside of his lover. Dean held still, adjusting to the intense sensation. “Oh, Dean… you feel… my god, you feel _so good_ …”  

 

“ _Cas_ …” Dean whispered, unable to say what he was feeling because he was overwhelmed… it was too amazing for words. He felt his body relax around Cas and something else deep within him changed. It was almost like a piece of himself that he had never noticed before suddenly felt complete. He reached down and cupped Cas’ face as he looked deep into blue eyes shining with adoration. He lifted his hips and began to move, his other hand pressed over Cas’ heart, feeling it beating wildly under his palm. Cas groaned and moved his hands to Dean's hips as he thrust up into his hot, tight hole. Dean threw his head back and rocked his hips side to side, eliciting another groan from Cas, his voice thick with desire. He lifted Dean as he sat up to bring them chest to chest. He slowed his motions, looked into Dean's eyes, and his voice hitched as he tried to speak. His gaze was filled with so much love and devotion, it took Dean's breath away. 

 

“Dean, I… I…” 

 

“Shh… I know, baby. _I know…_ ” Dean stroked Cas’ hair with gentle fingers, then grabbed onto Cas’ shoulders as he began riding him with unrestrained passion. Cas continued thrusting into him, their bodies slamming together as they truly became one. He felt Cas reach between them to wrap his hand around Dean's cock. He panted heavily as Cas increased the speed of his strokes, then Cas shifted his hips slightly and began nailing his prostate with every thrust. “ _Unh_ … Cas… I'm gonna… _Caaaaaas!_ ” Dean shouted as his cum shot up between them, his body trembling with his release. He felt Cas tighten his arms around him, then he plunged his cock deep into Dean once more as his orgasm ripped through him. “ _Dean!_ ” Cas screamed as he came in Dean's ass for the first time. It was the most beautiful, most perfect moment of Dean's life… 

 

Later, in the darkness, Dean lay awake listening to Cas breathing. He was still sore from the lack of restraint they'd had during sex, but he was fine… he was perfect actually. Sometimes he would find himself feeling doubts over how quickly they'd fallen in love. In times like this, those doubts seemed ludicrous. After all, it happened all the time in his books. He only had a hundred thousand words or so to have two men meet, fall in love, and live happily ever after. Life wasn't a book and he knew that, but _still_... This was what happiness looked like… _felt_ like. He never knew before because he’d only ever been content at best. Dean was certain that this was real, and no matter what happened in his life, he knew he would never feel like this with anyone else. Cas was without a doubt the love of his life. 

 

The last Monday in August, Cas sat on the deck watching Dean fish. They dangled their feet in the cool water of the lake. It was hot, and sweat rolled down Dean's back. Their shoulders touched, because even in the Louisiana heat, they needed the contact. "Dean, can we talk?" Dean's heart skipped a beat or two. In most relationships, those words meant something bad was about to happen. 

 

"Sure, Cas," Dean mumbled, staring into the murky depths instead of looking at Cas. 

 

"I think it’s time to make it official." 

 

"Huh?" Dean finally turned to face Cas, his expression showing his confusion. 

 

"Move in with me." He held up his hand when Dean opened his mouth. "I hate leaving you every Monday to go back to the city alone." It was the one night they didn't spend together. Cas typically used the time to work on different recipes and do other restaurant related business. Dean spent the evening with his laptop. "We can still come up to spend Sunday afternoons with Sam, Mari, and Oliver, but..." He stopped and rubbed his hand over his face. "I'm sorry, Dean… I'm selfish. You’ve made a home here and I—“  

 

"Whoa. Stop talking for a second and let me answer," Dean interrupted, taking Cas' hand to stop him from fidgeting. "Are you sure about this Cas? It's a big step. I mean, we're practically on top of each other all the time now, but actually moving in together is huge." 

 

"I didn't make the decision lightly, Dean," he said in exasperation, like Dean was a dense schoolkid. 

 

"Yeah, I figured that. I know you, Cas, and I know what asking me to move in means to you." Dean knew the only time Cas lived with someone was that jackass, Fergus. So yeah, this was _huge_. "I would’ve packed my shit weeks ago, but I needed you to be sure. As for you saying this cabin is my home...” He gave Cas’ hand a firm squeeze. “My home is wherever you are." 

 

Cas' eyes filled with mirth. "What happened to no chick-flick moments, Dean?" 

 

"Shut up." He stood up and held out his hand to pull Cas to his feet. "Guess I need to let Benny know he needs to find another tenant," he said with a wide grin. Cas looked at him with so much joy, Dean felt like he couldn't pack fast enough. 

 

Since the cabin had been furnished, it didn't take long to pack Dean's things. By the next Sunday, Cas, Dean, and Sam all crossed the causeway, vehicles loaded with boxes.  

 

That Monday, Cas was writing notes at the kitchen island while Dean sat in the dining room putting the finishing touches on the last chapter of Misha and Jensen's story. Dean looked up and watched Cas for a few minutes. He'd frown and make scratches on the yellow legal pad he used for his notes and then scrawl something else down in handwriting only he could decipher. Dean smiled. He was finally beginning to accept that he could let himself be happy. They were a couple now, with all the problems and responsibilities that went along with it, and that no longer scared him. 

 

That night, he stripped down and took a long shower while Cas was on a conference call with Balthazar and some dude that wanted to rent out the entire restaurant for his daughter's wedding reception. Dean would hate to see what that would cost, especially since Cas didn't want to go along with it.  Instead of putting on a pair of sleep pants, Dean pulled down the bag from his side of the closet. He stepped, bare-ass naked into the hall to make sure Cas was still on the phone, before taking it into the bathroom and shutting the door. They came from an expensive store in the Quarter. He bit off the tag and held them up. _Pink._ He hoped Cas would appreciate them. Shaving had been the worst part. He'd been terrified he was going to nick his nuts, and wouldn't that ruin the surprise? 

 

He slid the delicate garment up his thighs and tucked himself in as best he could. Then he looked in the mirror. He bit his lip as he stared at his reflection, and the blush on his cheeks nearly matched the color he was wearing. _H_ _oly shit,_ _h_ _e was really doing this!_ His heart was pounding, but he refrained from ripping them off. He drew in a deep, steadying breath. When he thought about it, it wasn't fear he was feeling… he was _excited_. He took one last look in the mirror, opened the door, and stepped into the bedroom. He heard Cas coming up the stairs. He squared his shoulders and raised vibrant, green eyes to meet his lover. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, don't bitch about the cliffhanger...I popped my Dean in panties cherry for you guys.
> 
> The next chapter will be a roller coaster, so get ready to strap in.
> 
> Oh, and giving credit where credit is due - the bareback scene was brought to you by my wonderful editor, G33kDiva (a.k.a. Amanda).


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry...

"Mr. Adler, the cost of closing down my restaurant for a Friday evening is four thousand dollars." Castiel pinched the bridge of his nose. Zachariah Adler was a bigoted son of a bitch and Castiel despised him. 

 

"But that's crazy," Adler said, distaste for Castiel clear in his tone. The only reason he wanted his daughter's wedding reception at The Delta was because her groom, Harry, insisted on it. He'd love to please his old friend, Harry, but Adler was going to have to pay out the ass. 

 

"Maybe so, but that is what it costs to close my doors and pay my staff for a private party." Castiel watched as Dean headed for the stairs and longed to be able to follow him. The man droned on and on after he finally agreed to the price. Since then, he'd been trying to tell Castiel how to prepare the meal. Balthazar had to step in a few times to keep Castiel from losing his cool and telling Adler where he could stick his checkbook. 

 

Finally, Alder hung up after Balthazar promised they'd have the menu ready for his review by the end of the week. He set his phone on the counter and rubbed his eyes. Standing, he stretched and headed upstairs. His head down in thought, he wasn't paying attention when he stepped into the room. He looked up to see where Dean was, and his eyes landed on the most stunning sight he had ever seen. 

 

All he could do was stare, his mouth suddenly dry. He swallowed hard, trying to get enough saliva to lick his lips. "Dean, you're... _fuck_ , you're beautiful." His lover stood at the end of the bed, dressed only in panties, pink satin with a hint of lace at the legs and waist. His cock was hard just from the looking at him. He had to touch him. In three long strides, he was in Dean's personal space and his eyes raked over the gorgeous sight of Dean's cock tucked demurely into the tiny scrap of fabric and up to Dean's verdant eyes.  

 

"Happy Birthday, baby," Dean whispered. "It's a few days late, but I figured you wouldn't want to unwrap this at your party." 

 

Castiel skimmed his palms down Dean's smooth chest, coming to rest right above the waistband, almost afraid to touch, lest this dream disappear. His moan of appreciation made Dean smile. "I love you so much, Dean... so much, I can't even..." Fingertips brushed the lace waistband and Dean shivered, his nipples visibly hardening. He let his lips caress Dean's, soft kisses to show how much this gift meant to him. Dean took his hand and led him around to the edge of the bed. He began to undress Castiel and by the time he was nude, both their cocks were hard. The pink satin barely contained Dean's length. The head, wet with precum, peeked out of the elastic band.  

 

Sitting on the bed, Castiel opened his thighs and Dean stepped between them, putting the panties at eye level. Castiel took his eyes off of them just long enough to look up into Dean's perfect face. He saw so much love, trust, and open adoration in Dean’s eyes, his heart skipped a beat. He couldn't stop touching every part of his lover, his Adonis. He lowered his gaze to see how the outline of Dean's erection made the picture obscenely beautiful. Castiel's hand cupped Dean's heavy sac, gently squeezing, enjoying the slide of the fabric over Dean's balls. He leaned over and licked the tip of Dean's dripping cock, savoring the taste of him. He was so focused on the erotic sight before him, Castiel didn't hear the tread on the stairs. 

 

"Well, well, well... if I'd known you were this kinky, I probably wouldn't have left, Castiel," the grotesquely familiar British accent was like ice water running through his veins. Dean jerked away and grabbed a blanket to cover himself. Castiel couldn't move. He could only sit there frozen, staring at Fergus in disbelief. 

 

"Who the fuck are you?! How did you get in here?" Dean was the one to speak up, his voice as cold as Castiel felt. He was the one with the wherewithal to find a pair of discarded sweats from the laundry hamper and put them on hurriedly.  

 

"I have a key. Castiel and I have a… _history_ ," Fergus said before dismissing Dean with the wave of his hand. "Castiel, darling, we have a lot to talk about. Please send your rentboy away." 

 

"Listen, you—“ Castiel couldn't allow Dean to get caught up in this. All he could think about was protecting Dean from this horrible person from his past. He had to get Dean away from here, get rid of Fergus, and only then, could he talk to Dean about it. They would pick up where they left off and their lives would be perfect again. _But first_ , he had to deal with his ex.  

 

He felt frozen. He felt like he was going to snap. He had to remain calm. He closed himself off, drew down the familiar mask of indifference, and finally spoke. “Dean, please... Just _go_." Castiel kept his eyes trained on the man he hated and didn't see the devastation on Dean's face.  If he had, he would have reassured Dean that he was loved and wanted, but this was something he needed to take care of once and for all. From the corner of his eye, he saw Dean pull on a shirt and then he was leaving, roughly shoving Fergus aside. His act of defiance gave Castiel a perverse sense of pleasure.  

 

Castiel stood, unwilling to let Fergus see how unnerved he was standing there naked. He turned away slowly and took a pair of jeans out of the drawer. When they were zipped and buttoned, he faced his ex head-on. "Why are you here? Why did you come back?" Castiel fought harder to keep his voice cool. 

 

Fergus stepped further into the room and looked around. "Hate what you've done with the place, Castiel. Your taste has certainly declined… though your boy-toy is quite the looker. I must say, the panties gave him a definite appeal. Perhaps you can invite him back after we clear things up. I'll wager he'd be up for a ménage à trois." Castiel saw red. He'd always heard that expression before, but his vision actually went red, and his blood felt like it was boiling. 

 

"There is nothing to clear up, Fergus. _Nothing_. Do you honestly believe you can disappear for over a year and then show up expecting me to take you back?" Castiel was seething at the sheer audacity of the man. 

 

"Castiel," Fergus' voice dropped to a seductive tone. "Our relationship was stagnant then. You realized that as well as I did. My little sabbatical did us both some good. Your restaurant has proved to be most successful, and..." 

 

" _Stop talking_ ," Castiel shouted coldly. He felt a jolt of satisfaction when Fergus flinched. "You cannot possibly expect to waltz back into my life like this. _We... are... done_." 

 

"You are being intransigent, Castiel. We are good together." Fergus stepped closer, but Castiel refused to retreat. He pulled himself to his full height, four inches taller than Fergus. Fists clenched at his sides, he felt more than capable of ramming one into the man's smug face. "We have mutual friends. The same tastes for the finer things in life..." 

 

" _Get out,_ " Castiel raged. "Get the _fuck_ out of my house!" 

 

Fergus, now a mere foot away from him, narrowed his eyes. "You don't mean that." His hand reached to touch Castiel's face and with a feral growl, Castiel clenched his fist and threw a wrathful punch. It landed where he intended. Blood spurted from Fergus' nose and he reeled back, hand flying to his face. "You bloody _bastard_ ," he said, his voice nasally from the red river pouring out of his nostrils.  

 

"Out," Castiel snarled. "And don't you ever let me see you again, _you fucking piece of shit_ ," Castiel said through clenched teeth as he grabbed him by his starched white collar and shoved him toward the door. At the top of the stairway, Castiel felt the sudden urge to push the fucker, but he didn't want to spend his life in an orange jumpsuit without Dean by his side. _Dean_. 

 

It was only after Fergus was downstairs that Castiel remembered his key. "Give me the key, Fergus." The other man simply stared at him. Castiel's hand was outstretched and he didn't back down, didn't even blink. With the hand that wasn't holding his nose, Fergus reached into the pocket of his neatly pressed trousers and pulled out a key. It was on a silver keychain Castiel recognized as the one he'd given to Fergus for their first anniversary. He sneered at Castiel and threw it at him.  

 

"You will regret this, Castiel. I could have taken you places... made you famous." 

 

"Fuck. You.” Castiel snapped, his hand closing tightly around the key. The bite of it against the flesh of his palm grounded him. When the door slammed, Castiel closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh of relief. 

 

Racing back upstairs, bare feet slapping on the polished wood, he knew he needed to call Dean. He was probably driving around the block waiting for Castiel to clean up the mess that was his ex. He snatched up his phone and pressed Dean's picture, his smiling face calming Castiel's still racing heart. It went straight to voicemail. He frowned and stared down at the phone as his heart dropped into his stomach. Something was wrong, he could feel it… what did he miss? He replayed the scene from earlier, trying to recall the details. He had been so shocked by Fergus suddenly showing up in such an intimate moment…  

 

 _Fuck_. Dean had trusted Castiel with his most secret desire, opened his soul before him in the most vulnerable way. And when faced with an enemy, Castiel had sent Dean away. How could he have done such a thing? Oh, God… _he had to find Dean_. He sent out a text. And then another. And another. 

 

 

Thankfully, Dean was in the habit of leaving his wallet, phone and keys by the front door. Hands shaking, he snatched them up and slammed the door behind him. His throat was tight like he was getting strangled and he had to fight for breath. His head was spinning, and he felt like he was going to vomit. It wasn't late and the sounds from the Quarter could be heard in the humid air that blanketed the city. He stood still, barefoot, unable to think clearly. _Sam_. _Family_. He jammed the key into the Impala and he was on the causeway before he realized it. He drove on auto-pilot and couldn't for the life of him remember how he got there. Luckily, he remembered to turn off his phone.  

 

 _Cas_... No. He couldn't think about him right now. Benny hadn't rented the cabin yet and Dean still had a key, but everything he owned was back home. _No, not home. Not anymore_. The thought was like a knife stabbing him in the chest. _How could this hurt so much?_  

 

He sped over the lake, the roar of the Impala's engine filling his ears, headlights piercing the darkened night. He approached one of the turn-arounds and pulled to a stop. He got out of the car and stared at the inky black water. The satin, so wonderful against his skin before, felt like it was clawing at him now. Rage and humiliation surged through him. Looking both ways for oncoming traffic, he yanked off the sweats and ripped off the panties. He looked at the torn fabric with revulsion and flung it as far as he could over the side of the bridge. The lights illuminated the scrap of color for an instant before it disappeared from view. He pulled on his pants and returned to the Impala.  

 

The porch light was on, but the house was dark when Dean turned off the ignition. He sat in silence, staring at his brother's home. He blinked as his vision blurred. _No_ , he would not cry. An upstairs light came on, and a few minutes later, Sam appeared at the door. He was dressed in plaid pajama pants and a loose, black t-shirt. Dean stayed still, his hands gripping the steering wheel, eyes trained on Sam as he walked towards him. Sam’s face was lined with worry as he opened the driver's side door. "Dean? What's going on?" Dean wondered if the pain he was feeling in his chest showed on his face. It must have, because Sam pried his hands off the wheel, pulled him out of the car, and wrapped his arms around him. He clenched his teeth to keep from sobbing against his  brother's chest, and the taste of copper filled his mouth. 

 

Sam led him into the house and pressed a glass into his cold hands. "Drink it, Dean." He lifted it to his lips and felt the burn of the Scotch as it traveled down his throat before pooling in his belly. He was vaguely aware of Mari entering the living room and a soft hand touching his face, but then she was gone. Sam sat across from him, concern etched on his face. "Want to talk about it?" 

 

"Cas' ex came back. He told me to leave," Dean said, his voice hollow. 

 

"What? Dean, I can't believe Cas would—"  

 

"Well, fucking believe it because he just did," Dean shouted, the words echoing off the walls. Sam schooled his face into a calm expression, nodded once, and then stood up. 

 

"Come on… you need some sleep, and then we'll figure things out in the morning." He numbly followed his brother up the stairs and into the guest room. Sam closed the door and left him by himself. Couldn't Sam see he didn't want to be alone? 

 

He sat in silence for a long time, blankly staring into space. He'd known all along he wasn't good enough for Cas. He told himself not to fall for the guy because he knew it would end this way. Being right never felt so empty… He curled himself into a ball and fell into a lonely, exhausted sleep. 

 

When he awoke, sunlight was streaming through the window and the smell of coffee touched his nose. Reluctantly, he got out of bed, his limbs feeling like dead weight. Mari and Sam were in the kitchen, seated at the breakfast table. Oliver was in an infant carrier at his sister-in-law's feet. He tried to smile and pretend that it was a common occurrence to wake up in their house. 

 

Checking the time on the microwave, Dean sent a sharp look to his brother. "Shouldn't you be at work?" 

 

"I called in," Sam said quietly. Mari stood and picked up the carrier. She walked past him, pausing long enough to touch his arm. He heard her climbing the stairs. Sam was so lucky to have her...someone to love him unconditionally... _someone like_... No, Cas never... 

 

"You didn't have to do that, Sam. I can handle it," Dean muttered, going to the coffeemaker and pouring himself a cup. "I just need to call Benny and tell him I want to move back in the cabin." He cleared his throat to get rid of the lump threatening to rise. He wouldn't think about his things at Cas' place. _Not now_. 

 

"Dean, are you sure you should do that? I mean, you and Cas... it was _good_." 

 

"Yeah, ' _was'_ being the operative word there, Sammy," Dean felt himself sliding back into his old habit of hiding his emotions behind sarcasm. He breathed deeply. "Look, I'm fine. Go to work, and I'll go out and buy enough shit to get me through a couple of weeks. I don't need a babysitter."  

 

Sam sighed and stood up. "Fine, Dean, but if you need anything..." Dean just nodded and blinked back the tears threatening to fall. Boys didn't cry. Wasn't that what his father used to tell him all the time...with each smack of the belt? He turned and looked out the window at the backyard, looking for something else to focus on so he could collect himself. He'd have to build a swingset and maybe a fort for Oliver. It would give him something to do. He heard Sam leave the kitchen. 

 

With only the clothes he was wearing when he left New Orleans and a pair of flipflops belonging to Sam, Dean drove to Walmart and filled his cart with jeans, t-shirts, a pair of sneakers, and some toiletries. It was his laptop that he felt the greatest loss for since he could never truly replace it. All his work was stored in his Cloud account, but he hated the thought of buying a new one. 

 

Back at Sam's, he unloaded all the bags and saw his phone on the nightstand where he'd left it. He turned it on and it began to chirp incessantly. Fourteen missed calls and ten messages… all from Cas. He shut the phone off without reading them. He just couldn't. What the hell did he want? He probably wants to know when Dean will be back to get his stuff. _Fergus_ would need closet space, _wouldn't he_? He felt sick. 

 

Mari, surprisingly, didn’t bring up Cas once. They were eating lunch together when he got an idea. "I think I'm going to head to the beach for a little R&R." Mari looked up, startled. 

 

"What? Dean... shouldn't you just stay here with us? I don't think being alone is the best idea right now."  

 

"Why? Afraid I'll drink myself to death or eat a gun? Jeez, Mari, he isn't worth dying over." Only he was. Dean would have given his life for Cas. He would have taken a bullet for him without a thought. He swallowed thickly and pushed the last half of his sandwich away. "What was it those commercials used to say… I need to wash that man right outta my hair? Well, I can do that at the beach." He should have laughed after such a comment, but instead, he felt like he was shattering into a thousand pieces. 

 

He didn't tell Sam his plans and told Mari he'd be in touch. He packed the Impala and three hours later, he parked on the beach in Pensacola, Florida. All he had to do was find a hotel and get laid.  

 

 

Castiel knew the logical thing to do was just wait for Dean to come home. He left several messages and tried to call over a dozen times. He fell asleep with Dean's favorite t-shirt clutched in his arms. When he woke, it was after eight. Panicked, he checked his phone, but Dean hadn't contacted him. He quickly showered and dressed before getting behind the wheel of his car and headed north. Dean would go to the cabin or Sam's if he was hurt, Castiel was sure of it. 

 

The cabin was deserted and locked up. As he drove by Sam and Mari's place, he didn't see the familiar black car in the driveway. If he hadn't stopped in front of the house to debate going in, he would have caught up with the Impala at the stop sign.  

 

What if Dean didn't go to his brother's home? Obviously, he didn’t go to the cabin either. He chewed on the edge of his thumbnail until it began to bleed. What would Dean do? Where would he go? He banged his head on the steering wheel. He couldn't think. 

 

From the side of the road, Castiel called Balthazar. "Good morning, Cassie. I'm so glad you called. My car is making a funny noise, and since your perfect boyfriend is good with cars – as well as everything else – I thought I'd ask him to come take a look at it. Can I talk to him?" Castiel couldn't speak. "Castiel?" 

 

"Yes... I'm... here." He felt like he couldn't breathe. 

 

"Cassie, what's wrong?" 

 

"I can't... _Dean_..." He swallowed, forcing the tears back.  

 

"I'm coming over. Just hold on." Balthazar sounded scared. _How odd_. When Fergus left, his friend was almost happy. Sure, he was upset that Castiel was hurting, but he'd been relieved that the bastard was gone. 

 

"Not home," Castiel whispered into his phone. 

 

"Where are you?" Castiel looked around. Where was he? 

 

"I don't know... Near Abita Springs." 

 

"Christ, Castiel..." Castiel could imagine his friend running frustrated fingers through his hair. It would be standing on end about now. He would smile if he wasn't on the verge of tears. "Are you okay to drive?" 

 

"Yes." 

 

"Come home. I'll be here waiting." Castiel never doubted his friend would be there for him.  

 

As he drove off the causeway, he found Sam's number on his phone and listened to it ring. Instead of the expected hello, he was greeted coldly. "I don't know what you did to my brother, but he is completely fucked up right now. Do me a favor and lose my goddamn number." Castiel physically winced at Sam's words.  

 

"Sam, please, I..." But he was met with silence. 

 

Balthazar was waiting in his living room and was still pacing when Castiel walked in. An hour later, his friend knew the whole story and was cursing Fergus and the man's mother for giving birth to him. Once he calmed down, he took Castiel's hand. "We will get Dean back," he said with more conviction than Castiel was capable of feeling. 

 

Castiel leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes. "How?" 

 

"I don't know," Balthazar said softly. 

 

For the first time since he'd opened the doors of The Delta, Castiel didn't go to work. He sat at the piano and played _When You Were Mine_ with one finger over and over again. It was past midnight when he went upstairs. He looked at the bed and turned right around and went back down. He curled up on the couch and stared at the stack of Dean's car magazines on the coffee table. With a snarl of anger, he pushed them to the floor.  

 

On Wednesday, he called Mari. It rang four times before she picked up. "Castiel." 

 

"Yes... Mari... I need to talk to Dean." 

 

"He's not here." Her tone was warmer than Sam's and he felt a ray of hope. 

 

"Did he go back to the cabin?"  

 

"No." 

 

"Mari, please." He knew the desperation could be heard in his voice. 

 

"Castiel... you broke his heart." She sighed and spoke softly, "I'll let him know you called. That's all I can do." 

 

"Thank you." He was speaking to empty air. She hung up without saying goodbye.  

 

He didn't go to work that night either.  

 

Thursday, he was awakened by Balthazar ripping the blanket off him. "Get up and bathe. Christ, Castiel, you smell like you haven't showered all week." Castiel turned his back to him, which was no easy feat since the couch was so small. "You have a restaurant to run and a wayward boyfriend to locate. Get your sexy ass up and get dressed." When he didn't answer, Balthazar walked to the door. As he opened it, he called out, "I guess I’ll go see Sam Winchester without you then." _What_? 

 

Castiel rolled over so fast, he fell onto the floor. "You can't... he won't..."  

 

"What the hell are you wearing?" Balthazar came back into the room. Castiel looked down. He'd found Dean's bear underwear in the laundry and put them on. As gross as it sounded, he'd sniffed them first and they smelled like Dean. _God, he was pathetic_. 

 

"They're Dean's," he whispered. 

 

"God, man. Get in the shower." 

 

Castiel obeyed and walked slowly up the stairs to shower. He felt a wave of nausea as he walked past their bed. Only a week ago, it had been filled with pure happiness. Now it was empty and a symbol of all he had lost. He stood under the hot streams of water and thought of all the wonderful times he and Dean had spent there, too. He leaned against the cool tiled wall and let his sorrow wash over him. 

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to break them, just so I could put them back together again.


	17. Chapter 17

"Dean, he called Sam yesterday and today he called me. It broke my heart. He sounded so... _broken_." Dean stared at the cruise ship sitting out in the Gulf. He wondered if it was heading to New Orleans. He flipped over on his stomach so it was out of sight. Seeing it brought back too many memories. 

 "He told me to leave, Mari. He's not the one with the broken heart." She sat on the other end of the phone not talking. Dean squirmed. He hated it when she did this. "Did he... say anything?” 

 "He wanted to know where you were. He sounded pretty desperate, Dean." Dean picked at the edge of his towel. The sand was hot and pictures of another beach in another time filled his head. Mari and Sam didn't even know where he was, so he didn't have to ask if she'd told Cas. They knew he was in Pensacola, that was all. 

 She begged him to come home, but he couldn't. Not yet. The wounds were too fresh. He tucked his phone under one of his flipflops and made his way to the water's edge. A pretty woman in a red bikini strolled up to him. "Hi, there. Are you here on vacation?"  

 "Yes," he smiled politely and then waded in. She followed. 

"My name's Candy." _Of course, it was_. Bleach-blonde hair, fake tits, and a stripper name. Just his luck. 

 "Listen, I just broke up with my _boyfriend_ and I'm not good company right now." She smiled, but looked disappointed. 

 "I'm sorry. Hope you... hope you feel better." And her perky little ass stalked off across the sand.  

 When he was waist-deep, he dove and swam underwater for several yards before breaking the surface and wiping the water from his eyes. He stared at the horizon. Why was Cas calling Sam and Mari if he was back with Fergus?  

Hungry and thirsty, Dean picked up his towel and shook out the sand. He walked up to the boardwalk, heading for his hotel when a voice called out to him. "Hey!" Dean turned to see a guy a few years younger than him coming toward him. He was slim with lean hips, dressed in pale blue board shorts. 

 "Can I help you?" Dean asked. 

 The man gave him a shy smile. "I... uh... couldn't help but notice you've been approached by several attractive women today and turned them all down." 

 "Yeah, so?" Who was this dude? And why was he spying on him? 

 "I just wondered if... maybe you'd like to have dinner with me. My name's Aaron, by the way." Dean stared at him for long enough that the guy took a step backward. Dean had set out to get laid, but so far he'd only moped. Maybe this was his chance.  

 "Sure. You staying here?" Dean pointed to his hotel. 

 A grin broke out on Aaron's face. "Yes. Do you want to meet downstairs...say around six?" 

 "See you then," Dean said, backing away and stumbling over a sand bucket. He righted himself, blushed, and waved. He felt awkward and embarrassed and… _wrong_. He shook it off and kept walking. 

 He took special care to shave and splash on cologne. _It was Cas' favorite_. He pushed that thought out of his mind. It had been a while since he’d done the casual date thing. He thought he was done with it. He thought… _No._ He closed himself off once again and stepped through the door. 

 Dinner turned out to be… nice. They ate shrimp, and Dean learned that Aaron was Jewish and lived in Biloxi. He was a contractor on the Air Force Base there. Dean found himself stalling every time Aaron suggested they head back to the hotel. First, he suggested another drink and then, a walk on the beach. _How cliché could he get?_  

 It was there under the moonless night that Aaron pulled him close and kissed him. Dean opened his lips and let the other man take control. After a few seconds, Aaron pulled away. "Whoever you've been thinking about all night... I hope he knows how much you love him." And then he was gone, walking off into the darkness. Dean touched his lips, then with a growl, picked up a piece of driftwood and threw it as far as he could, shouting in frustration. He stood there for a minute, his chest heaving with harsh breaths as he fought off tears. In that moment, he knew he would never get over Castiel and would never love anyone like that again. He dropped to his knees in the sand, pounding his fists in the fine grit. Damn him...damn Castiel Novak. 

 Thursday, he was sipping on a tropical drink when Sam called. "Sammy, wish you were here. The beach is nice and the drinks are plentiful," he said, forcing himself to sound upbeat. It came out more edgy than he intended. 

 "You need to come home." Sam’s voice was serious and made no room for argument. 

 "And hello to you too, baby brother," Dean retorted. 

 "Shut up, Dean, and listen. Castiel and Balthazar came to my _office_ today. Castiel was quiet, but his buddy kicked up a goddamn fuss until I agreed to see them." _Damn it, what the fuck was Cas trying to pull?_  

 "Hope you told them to go fuck themselves." Dean tried to sound cool, but he felt a queasy sensation in his stomach. 

 " _No_ , Dean… I listened to what Castiel had to say. You need to come home," he repeated. 

 "Sam..." 

 "I mean it, Dean. Get your ass home, _now_." 

 "What did he say?" The queasy sensation turned into full-blown nausea. 

 "I'm not getting in the middle of this. You need to come home and talk to Castiel. God, both of you are so... so... _Fuck!_ Just call me when you're on the road."  He didn't wait for Dean's answer. 

 Dean sat there feeling sick and dazed, his mind spinning in confusion. Why was Cas trying to find him? What was he missing?  

 

 

Castiel followed Balthazar up the steps and into the offices of Holland, Cooper, Myers, and Winchester, Attorneys at Law. The receptionist, a smartly dressed woman of indeterminate age, looked up. "Can I help you?" 

 "We are here to see Sam Winchester," Balthazar said in his haughtiest tone. 

 "Do you have an appointment?" She asked, matching his haughty tone and adding a dash of annoyance for good measure.  

 "No, but this is very important." The two stared each other down until Castiel broke the tension. 

 "Please, I need to see Sam." His eyes were wide and pleading. She almost cracked. Almost. 

 "I'm afraid that will not be possible." She went back to her computer screen and ignored them. Castiel turned to go, but Balthazar caught his arm.  

 "Listen, madam… We are not leaving until we talk to Sam," Balthazar yelled, loud enough to be heard all over the small building. Castiel groaned. He didn't need to be arrested for disturbing the peace. The receptionist stood up and tried to look menacing, but she was clearly thrown by Balthazar’s suddenly aggressive behavior and Castiel's sad puppy eyes, so she failed miserably. 

 "D--don't make me call the cops," she said, picking up the phone. It was then that Sam and another man appeared from a hall to the left of her desk. He looked sharply at Castiel. 

 "Becky, I'll handle this. Cas, Zar, in the conference room. _Now_ ," he growled and they hurried to follow him. He waited for them to enter and then shut the door with a resounding click. He crossed his arms and glared.  

 "Castiel needs to talk to Dean." Balthazar’s expression was stern enough to get Sam's attention. 

 "That is Dean's decision," Sam said shortly.  

 "Sam, I don't know what Dean told you, but I can explain." Castiel winced at his own words because that sounded like what every cheating husband or boyfriend sounded like. By Sam's lifted brow, he thought the same thing.  

 "What Castiel is _trying_ to say is that Dean misunderstood the situation, and he just needs to listen to Cassie's explanation." 

 "I hurt him. _God_ , Sam, I didn't mean to. I would _never_ … Fergus appearing out of nowhere rattled me, and I wanted to shield Dean from an unpleasant scene. Fergus said some _horrible_ things and I...I..." He trailed off, looking to the side. 

 "He hit the bugger," Balthazar crowed. "Right in the nose. Bloodied it. Hope he broke it." Sam's eyes flew to Castiel's.  

 "You hit him?" Sam looked at him with surprise and maybe a little admiration. 

 "I'm not proud of the fact, unlike Zar, but yes. He deserved it," Castiel answered, his gaze unwavering. 

 "So he didn't move back in?" Both Balthazar and Castiel stared at him in shocked silence. 

 " _What?_ " Was that what Dean thought? He actually thought Castiel would take Fergus back? Didn't Dean believe that he loved him? Castiel sat down heavily in one of the leather chairs and put his head in his hands. He heard Sam take the chair next to him.  

 "He thought you told him to leave because Fergus came back. He’s heartbroken. He thinks you threw him away because he's not good enough. Castiel... Cas, you have to tell him he was wrong.”  

 Castiel kept his head in his hands, unable to respond. How could Dean think he wasn't good enough for him? Yet even as he thought it, he knew the truth of Sam's words. He knew that Dean was afraid he wasn't ‘fancy enough’ for Castiel. He repeatedly tried to reassure Dean that he was more than good enough, _perfect_ even. But he of all people knew how deeply emotional scars could run… how badly they could affect one’s self-image. Truthfully, one of the things he loved most about Dean was that he could see some of his own vulnerability reflected in Dean's eyes. It’s what made him trust Dean enough to tell him things he'd never told anyone, not even Zar. Dean had placed his trust in Castiel, too. Trusted him with his innermost secrets and insecurities. He had held Dean's tender heart in his hand, and when it was at its weakest, Castiel had crushed it and betrayed him. His stomach twisted in agony and lurched. He turned on the spot, ran across the room, and vomited in the trash can.  

 He felt Sam's large, gentle hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to call Dean. Pull yourself together because Lucy, you have some 'splaining to do." Sam's attempt at levity fell flat, but for the first time, he felt a slight twinge of hope that he would see Dean again.  

 

Dean tossed his stuff in the cheap duffle he'd gotten at Walmart and checked out of the hotel. He got into the car and just as he was about to start the engine, he remembered all the texts from Cas. He'd never read them. 

  **Text from Cas: 10:45 – Where are you? He's gone now.**  

 **Text from Cas: 11:15 – Call me. Please.**  

 **Text from Cas: 11:28 – You are scaring me. Please call.**  

 **Text from Cas: 11:32 – I need you.**  

 **Text from Cas: 11:34 – Please.**  

 **Text from Cas: 11:35 – I love you.**  

 **Text from Cas: 11:40 – I'm sorry.**  

 **Text from Cas: 11:41 – I can't do this, Dean. I can't live without you.**  

 **Text from Cas: 11:43 – Why are you doing this?**  

 **Text from Cas: 11:48 – Please.**  

 He noted the times, those were from the night he'd left. The rest were from the days since. Each sounding more and more... despondent. 

  **Text from Cas: 8:04 – Dean, call me. I miss you so much.**  

 **Text from Cas: 2:38 – I love you.**  

 **Text from Cas: 9:42 – I love you.**  

 **Text from Cas: 12:55 – I love you.**  

 **Text from Cas: 3:08 – I love you.**  

 God, he was so stupid. Why didn't he bother to check his messages? The last one was sent this morning. 

  **Text from Cas: 9:55 – You are perfect for me and without you, I am worthless. You were meant to be my happily ever after. Please don't take that away.** **I love you.**  

 He set his phone on his thigh and pulled out on the highway. He slid a cassette in and Metallica's _The Memory Remains_ began to play. He drove to Mobile, where he had to put gas in his baby. As he put the cap back on the tank, he tried to put himself in Cas' shoes. Although, the way Cas reacted to the situation with Fergus wasn't ideal, Dean’s reaction could have been better. Or at the very least, he could have read the damn texts. It would have saved both of them a lot of heartache.  

 He was heading home now, but all this time Cas had stayed behind wondering if Dean was ever going to forgive him. He leaned against the car with the hot Alabama sun beating down on him and typed out a text. No, he couldn't do this over text. He erased it and took a deep breath before pressing a trembling finger to Cas' contact icon. 

 " _Dean_ ," Cas exclaimed, sounding breathless. 

 "Hi, Cas," he whispered. What could he say at a time like this? There was an empty silence and Dean imagined he could hear Cas breathing. It wasn't true of course, because the I-10 traffic was roaring by him at breakneck speeds. His stomach was churning with anxiety. "I'm coming home." He didn't know what else to say. 

 "Thank God." He sounded exhausted… like he hadn't slept in days. Dean felt a stab of guilt. 

 "Yeah, well I don't think he had anything to do with it." Dean tried to keep his voice from sounding bitter, which resulted in him sounding hollow and wary. He wasn't much for spirituality, but he suddenly remembered the woman he'd met at the hospital. "Cas, do you believe in psychics?" 

 "I... I don't know." He could tell by Cas’ voice that he was thrown by the question. "Why?" 

 "Never mind." Dean squinted at the sun reflecting off the windshield of a passing car. "Uh… I'll be home in about two hours." 

 "I'll be here," Cas replied. There was a pause, then he quietly asked, "Our home or Sam's?" 

 "Sam's..." He didn't think he could do this at Cas' home... no, _their_ home. Fergus wasn't going to taint their home. He wouldn't let him. But right now he needed to see Cas on neutral ground. 

 "Yes, of course..." Dean heard the disappointment, but he held firm. "I will see you soon, Dean." 

 "Yeah... Bye, Cas." 

 "Goodbye, Dean." Dean knew it was the first time since they'd shared those three important words that he didn't end a call without saying them. But he needed to be face-to-face with Cas for that. He blew out the breath he'd been holding and got back in the car. The big beast ate up the miles and with each passing landmark, Dean got closer to the man he never stopped loving. Despite the impending discomfort of what awaited him, he somehow felt a little bit lighter the closer he got to Cas. 

"Welcome to Abita Springs," Dean read the sign out loud with a nervous sigh. His stomach was in knots and his hands were beginning to sweat. Sam's driveway came into view and he saw Cas' vehicle in the driveway. Before he could turn off the ignition, Cas stepped out on the porch. Dean stared at him through the windshield. Cas didn't approach, and his shoulders looked tense like he was holding his breath. Dean bowed his head and took several deep breaths. "Come on, you can do this, Winchester. Nothing's changed. You love him and he loves you. _He loves you_ ," he repeated. He stepped out of the car and just stood there, willing his legs to move. Cas started walking and then Dean took a step. He let out a broken sob and rushed forward. They crashed together in the middle of the yard, embracing each other tightly and holding on for dear life.  

 "I'm so sorry, Dean. So, so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. Forgive me. _Please forgive_ _me,_ " Cas said softly, face buried against Dean's shoulder. Dean reached up and touched the back of Cas’ head tentatively, then gripped him more firmly… like he was afraid Cas disappear if Dean didn't hold on tight enough. He savored the familiar warmth in his arms… _home_. His throat was too constricted to speak, so he nodded his head knowing Cas could feel it. Dean wasn't sure how long they stood in the middle of his brother's front lawn, but movement on the porch brought him out of the embrace with a reluctant sigh. 

 Before the family intruded, Dean put his palms on Cas' cheeks and looked at him. Dark circles under sunken eyes marred his perfect features. He traced his thumbs lightly over them as Cas stared back at him with sincerity. _God, he'd missed him so much_. "I love you, Cas," Dean said, his voice husky with raw emotion. Before Cas could respond, Dean shook his head and stroked Cas’ hair away from his face. "We are in this together, Cas. You can't face shit alone. I… I can't go through that again." 

Cas nodded quickly. "I love you so much, Dean. I swear I will spend the rest of my life proving it to you." They continued to seek each other's eyes for reassurance, but the sound of a throat clearing broke the spell. The two lovers stepped away from each other and walked toward the house, holding hands as they moved forward. 

The waiting chipped away at Castiel's nerves until he couldn't stand it any longer and had to step out to the backyard. Sam had insisted that they go to his house to wait for Dean. After an hour had slowly dragged by, he began to wonder if Dean would come here or go home. He hoped with all his heart that Dean still thought of their house in New Orleans as his home. Even though Dean hadn't lived there long, Castiel knew it would never feel like home again if Dean wasn't there with him. 

 "Have you heard from your ex since the other night?" Sam asked from behind him. He hadn't heard the patio doors open. 

 "No, Fergus seems to have finally gotten the message. Even so, I plan on getting the locks changed once Dean... if Dean moves back in." 

 "He loves you, Castiel. Dean never lets anyone close enough to have the power to damage his heart. _You_ have that power because _he_ gave it to you. It's your choice how you use it." Castiel turned to tell Sam that Dean also had that power over him, but he was interrupted by his phone ringing. He stared at the phone for a split second before answering. " _Dean._ " Sam stepped back inside to give him privacy. 

 The conversation had been brief and a bit confusing, but hearing Dean's voice was everything and soothed his frayed nerves. It stung a little when Dean referred to Sam's house as home, but Castiel didn't care. All he cared about was that Dean was on his way back to him. That's the only thing that mattered now.   

 He spent the next two hours pacing, once again cursing at the clock. He knew he was driving the others crazy, but they were kind enough not to comment on it. Oliver seemed to have Balthazar wrapped around his little finger, and Mari was half in love with his friend. The rumble of the Impala's engine made all of them stop talking. Mari stood and took his hands. "Go to him, Castiel." 

 Stepping onto the porch, he could see Dean through the windshield. Being so near to him but not touching was almost physically painful. The car's mighty engine quieted, but Dean sat still, just staring at him. " _Please, Dean_ ," Castiel whispered, and as if hearing him, Dean let himself out. Castiel stepped off the porch, and his first step turned into a quick stride. Dean was moving toward him and then he was finally in Castiel's arms… _home_ _where he belonged_. He inhaled Dean's scent. There was a hint of the sea, and Castiel felt the pull of those memories. "I'm so sorry, Dean. So, so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. Forgive me. _Please forgive me,_ " he murmured against the fabric of Dean's shirt, one he'd never seen before.  He clung to Dean, wanting to stay pressed against him and never stop. He felt Dean's nod and knew everything was going to be alright. He breathed deeply for the first time in days. 

 Dean broke the embrace, but didn't step away. The warmth of Dean's hands on his face brought his eyes up to meet Dean's. Dean touched him like a blind man, as if memorizing every inch. "I love you, Cas." Dean's voice was huskier, deeper, and tinged with a sadness that Castiel had put there. Dean shook his head when Castiel started to speak, and Castiel heard the force behind his words. "We are in this together, Cas. You can't face shit alone. I… I can't go through that again." Cas nodded his understanding. 

"I love you so much, Dean. I swear I will spend the rest of my life proving it to you." The sound of someone clearing their throat pulled their eyes away from each other and Castiel hated losing the closeness. Dean took his hand and walked them back to the house and their family. He knew they still had to talk about that night, but for the next few minutes, they would need to show the others they were okay. 

By mutual agreement, Sam, Mari, and Balthazar kept the conversation about Oliver, the weather, and The Delta. Dean was shocked when Balthazar casually mentioned Castiel hadn't been to the restaurant since Dean left. It showed on his face, but he didn't comment. As they talked, Dean kept his hand clasped tightly and never once let go. When they ran out of neutral topics to discuss, Dean stood up and announced, "We need to go home and talk. I guess we will see you guys later." Castiel gave Balthazar his keys and he followed Dean out to the Impala, easing into the familiar comfort of the passenger seat. 

The first few minutes of the drive were tense, and Castiel's nerves strummed with a level of unease he'd never felt before. So much of his future happiness with Dean depended on this conversation… it was terrifying. "Dean, I feel like I can't apologize enough—“  

"No more apologies, Babe," Dean said calmly, his eyes on the road. He allowed himself to be comforted by the words and took a deep breath before continuing. Castiel’s first instinct was to carefully craft what he was going to say. Instead, he decided to open himself up and hold nothing back, and the words began to tumble out of his mouth…. the events of that night, him punching Fergus, and feeling total despair that he'd lost Dean because of his carelessness. Dean remained silent except to release a bark of laughter when he heard about Castiel hitting his ex.  

"That's it, I guess," he finished, looking out of his window. 

"And you didn't go to work at all?" Dean asked, glancing over at him. 

"Nothing else seemed to matter," Castiel said truthfully as he lowered his gaze, twisting his fingers in his shirt. Dean seemed to be processing that statement because he was very quiet for several miles. Castiel spent the time staring over the open water of the lake. 

"I let someone kiss me," Dean said, his shoulders tense. Castiel felt a wave of nausea, but he waited, knowing there was more to the story. After a moment, Dean exhaled loudly and continued. "I thought I could lose myself in someone else… try to ease the pain. But he wasn't you. He could tell I was thinking of someone else. He said, 'I hope he knows how much you love him.’ I hope you do, Cas." 

"I do." Castiel felt warmth spread through him.  

There was no need to ask Dean if there had been more than a kiss. He knew there wasn't. Dean would never do that to him, even if he was hurt. If his time with Dean had taught him anything, it was that Dean was never vindictive or cruel. Castiel slid his hand to the center of the seat and Dean placed his on top without hesitating. Their fingers entwined, and for the first time since Dean had walked out, Castiel smiled. After a moment, a thought occurred to him and he frowned. "Dean, why did you ask me about psychics?" 

Dean's laugh filled the car. "Babe, you wouldn't believe me if I told you." 

"Try me," Castiel pressed, a soft smile on his lips. Dean's story made him grin stupidly. "So, we have it from good authority that we are meant to be together." 

"Can't argue with the stars, Cas." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I fixed it.


	18. Chapter 18

Dean parked in his usual spot in front of Cas' house... no... _their_ _home_. He opened the door and was about to step out when he realized Cas wasn’t moving. "Come on, babe. We're home." 

Cas looked at him, a soft smile warming his face. "You have no idea how happy it makes me when you call this place home," he said, pointing out the window. Dean settled back in the seat facing him. 

"I gotta tell you, Cas... I had my doubts that I would ever see this place again. It hurt like a motherfucker because I'd gotten so used to you coming home to me here. I will never take what we have for granted. It means too much to me. It's… it's everything." And there it was… that little lopsided smile that drove Dean wild. "Come on, Cas,” Dean repeated. “Let's go home." 

Inside, Dean took a moment to run his fingers over the piano and look around. Realistically, he knew nothing had changed, but he needed to soak up the feelings this house gave him. "I know you took the key back, but first thing tomorrow I'm changing all the locks." Cas nodded and took his hand, tugging him up the stairs. Dean was more than willing to go. 

In their bedroom, Dean hesitated by the door and Cas wrapped his arms around him from behind. "I love you,” Cas whispered in his ear. He leaned his head back and felt Cas' lips on his neck. Dean sighed in appreciation and pushed Fergus Crowley out of his mind. That dick didn't belong here. This was his and Cas’ space and he loved it with all his heart. The press of Cas' erection against his ass pulled him out of his thoughts and made his own cock twitch with want. 

Turning in his lover's arms, Dean pulled him close for a long, passionate kiss. The kind of kiss that made a man go weak at the knees. The kind of kiss that made him so hard that he ached. The kind of kiss that promised _hot, nasty, makeup sex_. 

Breaking away from him, Cas held up a finger for him to wait. He went to the dresser and turned on his iPod docked on a speaker. The musician in Cas adored music and they'd often made love to more classical stuff like Chopin or some other dead dude. Dean himself had made a playlist of love ballads that he called Cas' mix tape. That one made Cas laugh. It seemed so long ago, but it was actually just before Cas' birthday.  

Returning to his side, Cas began undressing him. When Dean tried to hurry the process along, Cas simply said, "No, let me." The music drifting out of the speaker wasn't anything he recognized. It was a soft song that told a story about loving someone. When Dean was fully nude, Cas stood back and just looked at him. His eyes smoldered with want and something deeper. A few months ago, Dean would have been embarrassed and tried to hide himself, but tonight he had more confidence and less fear. They'd been on the brink of losing what they had, and nothing was going to come between them again. Dean lifted his chin and Cas licked his lips. Dean's cock throbbed at the sight and Cas, still fully clothed, reached forward to cup his smooth, hairless balls. Dean had chosen to keep shaven because having the hair grow out was itchy. "I want to worship every inch of you, Dean Winchester,” he whispered, nipping kisses along his jaw line. “I want to take you apart, then slowly put you back together… piece… by… piece."  

" _Cas_..." A fingertip over his lips stopped him. He was led to the bed and allowed Cas to adjust his arms and legs until he was spread open. 

"Stay." The single command in Cas’ deep voice made the blood race through his veins. He watched with hooded eyes as Cas stepped into the closet, and when he came back, he was holding two silk ties. Dean recognized them as his lover's -- one blue and one a deep red. Cas carefully tied each of Dean's wrists to the bedposts. Another song began to play, this one haunting. The chorus echoed what Dean was sure they were both feeling in this moment. 

 ** _Hey, how are you true?_**    
**_The light will guide you home, yes it will_**    
**_Hey, how are you true?_**    
**_Well there's one thing that you should know_** ** _,_**    
**_Yes you should_** ** _._**    
**_You need love…_**  

Dean's attention was pulled  back to Cas. He'd removed the lube and one of the phallic vibrators from the drawer. Cas set them beside Dean's hip and then crawled into position over him. He kissed Dean gently on the lips before moving his head down to take one of Dean's nipples into his mouth. Dean moaned and arched his back. This is what he loved… Cas knew how much of a slut he was whenever Cas focused his efforts on that part of his anatomy. He felt the light graze of Cas' teeth over the hardened bud and gasped. "Bite me, babe… _please_ ," Dean begged. Cas' deep blue eyes looked up at him, and as he granted Dean's wish, a slick finger pressed into him. _When did he even open the lube_? The two sensations together made Dean inhale sharply. It quickly turned to a whine when Cas lifted his head. " _Don't stop..._ "  

"I have no intention of stopping," Cas growled, the vibration of his voice radiating over Dean's skin. His finger moved in and out of Dean's hole, and Dean began to roll his hips, fucking himself. Pleased at his reaction, Cas lowered his head again and gave equal treatment to the other nipple. This time when he bit down, another digit slipped inside. Dean moaned with want, needing to touch, but the silk held fast.  

Cas held his hand steady and let Dean impale himself over and over, his teeth continuing to worry at Dean's nipple. When he inserted the third one, Cas lifted his head again and moved up to share a wet, filthy kiss that had Dean moaning like a whore. Cas had full control of the kiss, there was no mistaking it. When he allowed Dean to come up for air, he kept his lips right there, barely touching. "I love you and will never stop showing you how much."  

"I love you, too..." Dean wanted to say more, but Cas removed his fingers and Dean felt empty, so he let out a frustrated whine instead. Cas pushed himself up on all fours and crawled back until he knelt between Dean's spread legs, moving with the grace and predatory look of a lion. Dean heard the hum of the vibrator and bent his knees, anticipating the easy slide of the toy into his body. Dean used to be embarrassed when Cas would seemingly study what was happening 'down there', but Cas had a way of making Dean feel beautiful. It took him a long time to associate that word with himself. When he heard Cas say the careless words that night, it broke him and almost shattered Dean's fragile self-esteem. The song playing now seemed fitting somehow… 

 ** _I said "Mama, he's crazy and he scares me_**    
**_But I want him by my side_**    
**_Though he's wild and he's bad_**    
**_And sometimes just plain mad_**    
**_I need him to keep me satisfied"_**  

As if sensing Dean's dark thoughts, Cas pressed his palm to Dean's inner thigh and captured his gaze. "You’re perfect... so good for me." Dean relaxed. He didn't realize he'd tensed up, but Cas grounded him and all was right in his world. Cas pushed the smooth length into him and he welcomed the intrusion. He took his time, fucking Dean in slow and easy movements, until Dean was a writhing mess, pleading incoherently each and every time the vibrations touched on his prostate.  

Aware that Dean had reached his breaking point, Cas stood, leaving the toy inside of Dean. In typical Cas fashion, he undressed slowly and efficiently, taking the time to drape his clothing on the black upholstered easy chair by the window. Dean never took his eyes off of the man he loved. Naked and achingly beautiful, Cas lifted one leg to the edge of the bed and picked up the lube.  

The playlist was something he created after Dean had been gone for two days. Two days of not knowing where he was or if Castiel would ever get to touch him again. Two days of absolute heartbreak and despair. The playlist was filled with haunting love songs, and Castiel thought it would be fitting to play them all tonight. Makeup sex didn't seem to be the proper term because there had been no argument. Tonight was an affirmation. A declaration of his love and absolute devotion. 

Seeing him, eyes heavy with desire, spread across his bed like one of God's most perfect creations, Castiel couldn't wait to focus all his attention on pleasing Dean. That was why he chose to restrain him. Tonight, this was about Dean's pleasure. Castiel's would be secondary.  

As he opened himself, one foot on the edge of the bed so Dean would have an unrestricted view, Castiel watched the rise and fall of Dean's chest, the flush of his skin against the stark white sheets, and the end of the vibrator that filled Dean's ass. He could hear the steady hum, and by the way Dean's hips rolled forward and back, Castiel knew it was pressing against his prostate. He loved how Dean had kept himself shaved bare. He wanted to photograph Dean like this… a study in black and white. Perhaps one day soon… but tonight he couldn’t spend time on anything other than Dean. 

Dean licked his lips as Castiel eased his fingers from his slick hole. He mounted Dean and held his cock firmly as it penetrated him. The stretch and the burn made his heart pound and sweat to bead on his forehead. The initial discomfort subsided as he settled on Dean's thighs, filled completely. He focused on the throbbing heat that consumed his body.  

" _Cas_..." Dean's whisper spurred Castiel to move. Flexing the muscles of his strong legs, he lifted up and came down slowly. Dean grunted as the vibrator moved inside of him, and soon he was thrusting up to meet Castiel. He knew the steady rocking of Dean's hips was driving his lover mad from the way Dean was moaning with every downward stroke. "God, Cas... you're going to make me come..." His breathing became harsher as he fought to bring air into his overworked lungs. Castiel moved faster, riding Dean harder and harder, raking his nails down Dean's chest and leaving red scratches behind. Dean's body tensed as all his muscles contracted with the force of his impending orgasm. Dean cried out as he climaxed and Castiel stilled so he could feel Dean filling him with his hot cum. The throb of Dean's cock pumping his release into Castiel's tight channel made his own arousal leak over Dean's stomach. 

Watching Dean come down from the sexual high made Castiel feel triumphant, knowing he was the one who had given Dean so much pleasure. He could feel Dean softening and he shifted so Dean's flaccid cock slid out of him. "Let me suck you off, babe," Dean said tiredly. 

"That won't be necessary, Dean," Castiel said mysteriously and Dean lifted an eyebrow. Castiel shifted so he was once again between Dean's thighs. Using his knees, he spread him wide.  

Understanding dawned on Dean’s face, and his eyes widened as a slow, sexy smile crossed his lips. "You gonna fuck me, Cas?" 

Castiel took the end of the vibrator and pushed it further into Dean. The over stimulation jolted him and he whimpered. "Is that what you want? Do you want my cock to fill you? Or, do you want me to get myself off and come on you?" He emphasized his words by languidly stroking his thick cock, rubbing the head over Dean's balls, getting them wet with his precum. 

"I want to watch you. Come on me, Cas." Using his left hand to work the vibrator in and out of Dean in short, shallow thrusts, Castiel ran his fist up and down his shaft. Dean was watching his hand, eyes dark with lust. Knowing Dean was still turned on even after he came excited Castiel to no end. He set a fast pace and the slick, obscene sound of his cock slipping through his fist competed with the soft music drifting through the room. 

 ** _Speeding my way home on this road to oblivion_**    
**_Don't want to hear your voice on the phone_**    
**_Want to be your choice not just a moan_**    
**_Don't call me love unless you mean it_**    
**_Don't call me love unless you mean it_**    
**_Don't call me love unless you mean it_**    
**_Don't call me love unless you mean it_**    
**_At least not to my face_**  

"Babe, you look so hot jerking yourself off. Come for me, Cas... I wanna see you come..." Dean rolled his hips, continuing to fuck himself on the vibrator, a smile Castiel would describe as _wicked_ playing on his lush lips. Castiel's balls began to tighten and the blood pumping through his veins was molten. 

"Fuck... Dean… _fuck_!" Castiel shut his eyes and threw his head back as his orgasm ripped through him like a freight train. He pumped his cock until it hurt. When the world stopped spinning, he looked down at the mess he'd made over Dean's dick and balls and on both thighs. He sank down on his haunches and concentrated on getting his breath back. He eased the vibrator out of Dean and tossed it to the side after shutting it off. Five deep exhales, hold to the count of six, and release as he tapped out seven in his mind. Dean made fun of yoga, but for Castiel, it helped him with the everyday stress of running a restaurant. It was also good for calming down after strenuous exercise or rowdy sex…  

"That was hot as fuck, babe." 

Castiel smiled down at him and knew he was grinning like an idiot. He moved up and made quick work of the knots that held Dean's wrists. Dean sat up and rubbed the reddened skin. Castiel took each one and laid gentle kisses on them. "Did I hurt you?" 

"Are you kidding me, Cas? That was fucking mind-blowing." Dean looked blissful and satisfied, so Castiel didn't doubt his words. 

His legs were still trembling when he stood, and he wobbled a bit with his first step. He felt the wetness of Dean's cum running down his thighs. He turned on the shower then grabbed two fluffy towels and their bathrobes. He took Dean lovingly by the hand and led him to the bathroom and into the shower. They washed each other and shared sweet, gentle kisses. Wrapped in their robes, they made their way back to the bed and stood there holding each other for a while, the music still playing softly. 

Turning off the lamp a little while later, Castiel turned to pull Dean into his arms. "I'm so glad you're home," he murmured against Dean's temple.  

"Me too, babe. Me too."  

Castiel listened as the sound of Dean’s breathing turned into soft snores, then he allowed himself to sleep, safe in the knowledge that Dean was in his arms and right where he belonged. 

Awakening to the smell of frying bacon, Castiel stretched and groaned. He was a bit sore, but the memories from last night washed over him, and any discomfort he felt was worth it. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he stood and picked up his discarded robe from the floor.  

He found Dean in the kitchen, dressed in his old Boston University sweats and a plain white t-shirt. He was standing at the stove tending to a skillet. Castiel came up behind him and dropped a kiss on his neck. "Morning, babe." 

"Good morning, Dean. You're ambitious this morning." Castiel looked at the array of food in various stages of doneness on the stove. There was bacon, scrambled eggs, hashbrowns, and a plate of French toast sat on the warming tray.  

"I woke up early and decided to fix you breakfast. Your fridge was empty, so I had to run down to that fancy-ass grocery store. A MILF tried to squeeze my melons," he said with a laugh. Castiel rolled his eyes and picked up his chef's knife to slice the aforementioned cantelope. Hearing Dean laugh in their kitchen filled Castiel's heart with so much joy. 

"Why so much?" Castiel began to peel the rind away from the orange flesh with a skill that came from spending years in a professional kitchen. Dean shrugged. 

"Just figured I could have the leftovers for dinner tonight. You're going back to work, right?" He turned to face Castiel, spatula in hand. 

"Yes... I'm almost afraid of what I'll find when I get back to my kitchen." He wasn't really. He'd handpicked his staff and knew they could handle anything thrown at them. Balthazar was just as savvy when it came to running the back of the house. He wasn't a trained chef, but he knew how to act like one. 

They spent the day together doing mundane things like catching up on housework and laundry. It wasn't exactly sexy, but it was comforting in a way they both needed. All too soon, it was time for him to head to The Delta. Dean walked him to the door and kissed him goodbye. It was like the last few days never existed. He was feeling incredibly light-hearted when he walked into his kitchen.   
 

Once Cas was out the door, Dean grabbed his car keys and found a hardware store in the Yellow Pages. Within the hour, he was back, installing new locks on both the front and back doors. The chore complete, Dean settled down in the dining room with his laptop. He rubbed over the black plastic cover. "I missed you, old girl." Opening up Jensen's story, he began to type. He was still at it when he heard the front door. "That you, babe?" He'd purposely left the door unlocked. He'd have to give Cas one of the new keys.

Cas came into view, looking tired, but still sexy as fuck in his chef's coat. "Hello, Dean," he said, bending down to kiss Dean softly on the lips. "Get much done?" 

"Yeah, changed the locks and finished up two chapters. I might actually be ahead of schedule for once. I've got until the end of October to finish it, but I should have it done by mid-September at the latest. How was your night?" He knew Cas was dreading seeing Hannah and wanted to hear how it went. 

"Let me go shower first, and then I'll tell you," Cas gave him another kiss and headed upstairs. Dean saved his work and went to the kitchen. He sliced a round of smoked Gouda and laid it out on a dessert plate. When he heard the water shut off, he grabbed two beers and the cheese and got comfortable on the couch. Cas entered the room in bare feet and a pair of orange boxer briefs. Dean gave his body an appreciative look before offering up one of the bottles. 

Cas leaned back, his head resting on Dean's shoulder. Dean began to absentmindedly stroke his hair. "I counseled Hannah today." Dean knew Cas took his time to gather the right words when he had something serious to talk about, so he waited. "She was apologetic... and even though she didn't come right out and say it, I think her previous boyfriend might have abused her, both mentally and physically. She admitted she latched onto me because I treated her like a person rather than a piece of property." 

"Man, how can I dislike her after something like that?" Dean mused, fingers still combing through Cas' hair. 

"She knows how I feel about you and actually wished us well. She thought I was going to fire her. I told her how much I respected her and her talent in my kitchen." 

"That's awesome, Cas," Dean said, and meant it. He hadn't really been jealous of Hannah, after all, she didn't have the right equipment. But she'd made him nervous, and he saw her as a potential stalker. It was kind of crazy that Fergus was the one he truly had to fear. As if the bastard was some kind of supernatural being with a direct line to Dean's thoughts, Cas took Dean's hand. 

"Dean… Fergus came to the restaurant tonight." 

Dean sat bolt upright, almost knocking Cas off the couch. " _What?_ _!_ Tell me you called the cops." 

"Shhhh," Cas squeezed his hand, but Dean wasn't reassured. Not by a long shot. It took every ounce of his willpower to keep himself from pulling his hand away. "It's okay, Dean. I doubt he'll be coming back." 

"Then what did the asshole want?" Dean was trying very hard to control his temper. How could Cas be so calm? Even hearing his stupid fucking name was enough to reopen the wounds in Dean's heart that were still too fresh, too raw to have healed properly. 

"He needed money." Dean snorted, but didn't interrupt. "Supposedly, he embezzled a great deal of money from a company he was working with in Scotland. They investigated and have proof of his guilt, but they said the charges would be reduced if he paid back what he took.” 

"And he wanted you to give it to him because he blew the money he stole," Dean said coldly. 

"That about sums it up. I told him I couldn't help him. He ranted and postured some, enough to bother a few diners, but we escorted him from the restaurant. Zar threatened him with legal action, so he left." 

"He'll be back," Dean muttered. Parasites like Crowley didn't disappear, they hid in the cracks until they wanted to strike again. 

"I don't think so," Cas said confidently. _Very_ confidently. 

"What did you do?" Dean asked, curious now. Cas was just too laid back about this whole thing. 

"I may have informed immigration that his green card was no longer valid. And since he inadvertently told me where he was staying, I gave them the address." A slight smile played at the corner of his mouth. 

"You sly motherfucker," Dean said with a proud grin.  

"A sly and _hungry_ motherfucker," Cas responded. "It was busy tonight and I didn't get a chance to eat." 

Together, they went to the kitchen where Cas prepared a pizza with pesto, artichoke hearts, and the rest of the smoked Gouda. He grated some fresh Parmesan over it and slid it into the pizza oven. Dean, who'd eaten earlier, found his appetite again. He grumbled about it being for hippie vegetarians, but it was awesome and between the two of them, they finished it off. 

Cas was usually up for hours after a dinner shift. While he had been at the beach, Dean stayed on Cas' schedule; staying up later, often into the wee hours of the morning and sleeping until late morning. They watched a movie together on the couch, Cas' bare feet in Dean's lap. As he absentmindedly massaged them, Thor made a funny comment to Tony Stark and Cas chuckled. Dean looked over at his boyfriend, the love of his life, and he knew that ten, twenty years from now, they would still be together just like this.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the last chapter, but I'll be posting the epilogue very soon...very very soon. We gotta know how these two live happily ever after, right?
> 
> The songs used for this chapter are: How Are You True - Cage The Elephant; Misguided Angel - Cowboy Junkies; and Shed Some Blood - Rhye. Go check them out.


	19. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it. I really hope you enjoyed this story. This one will go down as one of my favorites.

**A year later...**  

“I can't fucking believe it..."  

Castiel looked up from his legal pad. "What?" Dean’s face was frozen in astonishment. He got up and walked to the dining room table that Dean commandeered for his office. Dean glanced from the screen in front of him to Castiel and then back again. 

" _A Russian's Love_ made the New York Times bestseller list!" Dean was practically giddy and Castiel laughed, yanking Dean from his chair and spinning him around, hugging him tightly. 

"Congratulations, Dean!" He knew the weekly list was considered _the_ preeminent list for authors. It was a nod to writers and was followed internationally. Making the list was a _really_ big deal. For an author of romance novels, it was practically unheard of… especially for _gay_ romance novels. He was so proud of his fiancé. Who would have thought that a character based on him would sell so many copies? 

"Cas, this is awesome. I'm already getting speaking engagements and Victor is planning book signings. This is fuckin' huge. It's just a gay romance..." 

"No, Dean, it isn't _just_ anything. It's a story about _real_ _love_ , and I am so proud of you." They shared a kiss and then Castiel pulled back. "We need to celebrate." He was already preparing a menu in his head. They'd need champagne. A case would do. The invitation list would include Sam, Mari... Zar, of course... 

"Whoa, slow down there... I can already see the wheels in your head spinning. I don't want this to be a big deal. Let's just have a small dinner with family." 

"That's what I was thinking, Dean. Family. A intimate dinner party.” He mentally threw away his plans for the chocolate fountain and live band. Dean didn't have to know how right he was. 

Castiel may have gotten a bit out of control anyway. The house was filled with family _and_ friends… and maybe some coworkers… and also some passengers from their cruise. Whatever, he was proud and liked sharing Dean's success with everyone.  

Victor, a handsome African American man was currently standing in the corner of the kitchen with Balthazar. _Interesting_. Dean was carrying Oliver around, showing him off to everyone. Mari, after hearing about Hannah from Dean, decided to befriend the other woman, and they were currently on the back deck smoking big, fat cigars. Gabe and Chuck, still together, were in the foyer increasing the volume of the party with their music and raucous laughter. Chuck was playing an upbeat song on Castiel's piano while Gabriel strummed Dean's guitar, both men singing at the top of their lungs.  

It was the large Cajun man that had Castiel's attention though. _Benny_. Dean told him months ago that he and Benny had a brief fling, but had remained good friends after deciding it had run its course. Castiel tried to keep the jealousy at bay, but seeing the way Benny looked at Dean was making the green-eyed monster growl. As if hearing his thoughts, Dean appeared beside him. "You look like you want to smite something," he said, handing Oliver to him. Castiel took the baby and gave him a kiss on his chubby cheek. "What's wrong?" 

"Benny keeps looking at you," he said petulantly. He knew by the way Dean was chewing on his lower lip, he was trying not to laugh at him. "It's not funny, Dean." 

"It really is, Cas. Benny and I are friends. He might still want this body—and who doesn't?" Dean winked and hip-checked Castiel. "But Cas, he knows my heart belongs to you and always will. This is _true love_. Do you think this happens every day?" 

“I know you did _not_ just quote _The Princess Bride_ in the middle of me sharing my fears and being all vulnerable.” He dropped his voice to a threatening growl in Dean's ear. “I think this counts as a punishable offense.” Castiel nearly broke his stern façade when he saw Dean's eyes rapidly change from cocky to scared to aroused in mere seconds.  

"I think it's time to send everyone home, don't you?" Dean looked around quickly, like he was trying to figure out how to get their guests to leave without being rude. "Then you can bring out Dimitri." 

"We have all night, Dean," Castiel murmured in Dean's ear, in the Russian accent that never failed to get Dean’s pulse raising. He gave Dean's ass a resounding smack before turning and taking Oliver outside to enjoy the early fall breeze. 

"Aw, babe, come on!" he heard Dean cry out. He chuckled and wondered how long it would take Dean to clear the place. 

 ** _Another year goes by..._**  

Dean looked out the second story window at all the cars. The wedding planning had gladly been handed over to Mari and Balthazar, since Cas didn't have time and Dean didn't have the patience. But looking down at the people milling around on the lawn of the huge plantation house, Dean began to think they'd made a mistake in giving those two a free hand. If he had his way, they would've just flown to Vegas. 

Smiling softly, he remembered the night Cas proposed. He'd asked Dean to come to the restaurant and found the place closed with a note on the door that read, 'Use your key'. The kitchen had been empty. 

 _He saw the hand-painted sign on the doors leading to the di_ _ning room. It read 'Come inside’_ _in Cas' scrawl and_ _the I’s were dotted_ _with_ _little hearts_ _._ _"_ _He’s s_ _uch a_ _sap_ _," Dean muttered, but he smiled and  pushed through._  

 _The dining room was_ _glowing with light from_ _hundreds of can_ _dles. All the tables were bare_ _except_ _one. The crystal and silver glistened on the white tablecloth. Cas, dressed in a suit and tie, sat at the table. "What's going on?" Dean wondered if he'd forgotten a birthday or anniversary, but no, he was good about remembering dates._  

 _"I just wanted to have a nice dinner," Cas' voice was low and huskier than normal._  

 _"Okay, but Cas, why did you have to close the restaurant for it?" It was a Thursday..._ _Thursday. Then Dean remembered. It was the day they got back together after_ _the fallout from_ _that horrific night. Cas was always extra attentive on that_ _day_ _of the week. Strangely enough, the angel Cas was named_ _after_ _was the Angel of Thursday_ _,_ _which Dean thought was awesome_ _. "_ _I love_ _the gesture, babe,_ _but w_ _e could have had something at home..." It was then that he noticed_ _the elegantly wrapped box. "_ _What's that for?_ _It's not my birthday_ _or a holiday, and_ _I know_ _I haven't been a very good boy,_ _"_ _Dean said with a wicked_ _sideways_ _smile_ _._  

 _"_ _Do I have to have a reason_ _other than my love for you_ _?_ _" Cas asked, tilting his head to the side just a touch._ _Dean_ _softened at Cas’ earnest words, and he_ _sat down and picked up the box. It was light. "Open it."_  

 _Dean pulled the end of the white gauzy bow and set it aside. He carefully opened one of the taped ends and pushed the wrapping paper away. The logo was familiar to Dean and he bit the corner of his lip nervously. Cas' hand covered his. "Dean, don't let him ruin this for us." Dean blinked back the dampness in his eyes and opened the box. The panties were white satin overlaid with black lace. Dean fingered the_ _material and imagined them against his cock. He looked up. Cas was gazing at him, a soft smile on those perfect lips. Neither had brought up trying again, because it was a bitter reminder of that night, but for Cas, he'd do anything._  

 _"They're beautiful, Cas," Dean whispered._  

 _"Not nearly as beautiful as you," Cas replied, making Dean chuckle_ _softly_ _._  

 _"Y_ _ou trying out f_ _or the romantic lead in a chick-_ _flick, dude?" Instead of answering, Cas got up and picked up two covered plates_ _from_ _a cart Dean hadn't even noticed. There was also a bottle of champagne chilling in a silver bucket. Did this mean.... Christ, he'd been racking his brain trying to figure out why Cas was going all out on a freakin' Thursday_ _,_ _and it didn't dawn on him until he saw the champagne. Cas set the plates_ _down and took his seat. "So… um…._ _this looks good."_  

 _They ate, making small talk about how big Oliver was getting and the sales of Dean's latest book, but the food was tasteless. He wanted this, but it didn't stop the butterflies in his stomach. When Cas pushed his plate away, Dean did the same. "Would you like dessert? Hannah made a brandy infused..."_  

 _"No, I'm good," Dean said, a bit too quickly. Cas tried to hide a grin. He knew that Dean knew. He stood up and moved to Dean's chair. Getting down on one knee, just like in the movies, he held out a velvet box._ _His hand was steady, but his voice was trembling with emotion_ _as he raised his shining blue eyes to_ _meet_ _Dean's._  

 _"Dean… You are the love of my life, my soul mate, and my best friend. I never knew how dull and empty my life was until I met you. The first time I looked into those gorgeous, green eyes and saw the shining light of your soul, I knew my life would never be the same. I want to spend every minute of every hour of every day in your arms for the rest of my life. Will you do me the great honor of becoming my husband?" He opened the box and the simple titanium band took Dean's breath away... or maybe it was the handsome man kneeling at his feet. He extended his left hand and tenderly ran his fingers down the side of Cas’ face._  

 _"Fuck yeah," Dean said with a wide grin. Cas laughed heartily as he slipped the ring onto Dean's finger._  

Dean was staring down at his ring when the knock startled him out of his reverie and he turned as his brother stepped into the room. "You about ready?" 

"Uh-huh," Dean answered, nervously fingering his bow tie. 

"Don't tell me you're nervous," Sam said, grinning like a cat that swallowed the canary. 

"Shut up. I'm not nervous." But he was. What if... 

"If you still have it in that pea-sized brain of yours that Castiel is too good for you, I will deck you myself." Sam was using his stern 'dad' voice, the one he'd developed since Oliver began to toddle around the house getting into shit. "That man worships the ground you walk on, Dean. You know that." 

"You got the ring?" Dean asked, changing the subject. 

"Yes, for the millionth time, I have the ring. The guests are all seated. Cas is waiting downstairs. Zar and Mari have everything under control. Those two could have planned the Normandy Invasion and the war would have been over in an hour with no bloodshed." Dean laughed because it was true. That friendship was freakin' strange, but they did pretty much everything together now. It was not unusual to see the two of them pushing Oliver's stroller around the shops in the French Quarter.  

"If Zar wasn't gay, you'd have to worry about those two," Dean teased. Sammy laughed and Dean felt a lot better. Cas truly loved him. And they were getting married today. 

The lawn was set with white chairs filled with family, friends, and business associates of the two men. "I still don't see why I have to do the bride thing," Dean complained. Cas was waiting at the alter already and Dean stood behind a brick façade waiting for the music to begin. He'd drawn the line at The Wedding March. The first jarring chord of _Angel_ rang out and Dean stepped into sight. With a grin, he strutted down the aisle to the rocking beat. Steven Tyler's voice began to flow from the speakers. 

 ** _I'm alone, yeah, I don't know if I can face the night_**    
 ** _I'm in tears and the cryin' that I do is for you_**    
 ** _I want your love_**    
 ** _Let's break the walls between us_**    
 ** _Don't make it tough_**    
 ** _I'll put away my pride_**    
 ** _Enough's enough_**    
 ** _I've suffered and I've seen the light_**  

 ** _Bayayby, you're my angel_**    
 ** _Come and save me tonight_**    
 ** _You're my angel_**    
 ** _Come and make it alright_**  

Cas was openly laughing as he watched Dean's playful antics. The guests were clapping and stomping in time with the music. When he reached Cas, the music faded and from that moment on, they only had eyes for each other. He knew he responded at the right times, but he was so wrapped up in Cas’ gaze, he didn't become aware of anything outside of them until the officiant pronounced them husbands and told them to kiss. The air was heavy with the scent of jasmine and wisteria, the sun seemed brighter somehow, and the butterflies Dean felt earlier were long gone. He was married to his best friend, the love of his life.  

He looked at the guests and saw Missouri Moseley sitting in the back, a knowing smile on her face. Dean almost thought it was smug, but he was afraid she would know and then smack him on the back of his head… and it wouldn't be the first time either. She once popped him with a wooden spoon just for _thinking_ about putting his glass on her table without a coaster. He thought fondly of when they reconnected. He ran into her a while back in that lame grocery store Cas always insisted on. He'd been having a rough day and couldn't remember what the hell he'd come there for… until he heard a light voice say, “Brown sugar, baby boy.” He turned and smiled, then he invited her to have dinner with them at Cas' place. Over dinner, the three of them hit it off, and she quickly became a mother figure to both of them. He couldn't imagine this day without her. 

The reception ran late into the night. As they glided over the dancefloor, Cas ran his hands over Dean's hips, keeping them just this side of decent. He leaned close to Dean's ear and whispered, "You're wearing panties, aren't you?"  

"Shh… gotta leave some surprises for the honeymoon," Dean whispered back into his husband's ear and followed it with a soft nip at his ear lobe. He was rewarded with a soft moan. "Down boy, we have guests." 

 ** _A_** ** _nother year_** ** _goes by_** ** _..._**  

Castiel paced. He expected Dean to be the nervous wreck, but his husband was currently scanning through a magazine, his feet propped on the chair in front of him. Sam and Mari were trying to keep Oliver amused by letting him play with his mother's iPad. His gaze lingered on Mari. What she did for them was beyond the bounds of friendship, or even family for most, and Cas would never be able to thank her enough. She looked up and caught his eye. He hoped their son had her warm, generous nature.  

The door opened at the end of the hall and a nurse came towards them. Dean stood up quickly, the magazine falling to the floor. "It's time, daddies," she said brightly. They clasped hands and followed her through the swinging doors. "Gown up and I'll take you to the delivery room." 

They were quiet as they pulled on pale blue scrubs. Back in the hall again, the nurse gave them masks and made them wash their hands with a foul smelling soap. "Y'all ready to meet your son?" 

"How is Hannah?" Dean asked, concern in his tone. Who would have thought the woman he once contemplated firing would become their surrogate? Hannah had become more than a friend, she was family. She was alone with no family of her own around here, so it was natural for them to accept her into theirs with open arms. When they began talking about hiring a surrogate, Hannah became quiet, then asked them if she could do it. She _wanted_ to do this for them. Knowing she cared so much touched Castiel's heart, and he recalled words Dean shared with him once… “Family don't end with blood.” Hannah was proof of that. They moved forward with Mari as the egg donor and Dean's sperm, and on the second attempt, the IVF took.  

"Hannah is doing fine. She's been given an epidural and is comfortable." They were led down another hallway where the nurse opened yet another door and they stepped through. Hannah was a bit pale, but she managed a smile. Her round belly seemed huge on her slim frame.  

The doctor looked up from the chart he was holding. "Okay, dads, we should be having this baby in a few minutes. Things are going to move pretty fast, but if you have any questions, shout them out and we'll try to answer if we can." 

He and Dean had taken several childbirth classes and watched dozens of videos, but it couldn't prepare them for the birth of their son. 

Jeffrey Morgan Novak-Winchester entered the world at 8:00 on a Thursday night. Red-faced and screaming, he was placed in Dean's arms. Castiel stood by, hands trembling, as he waited his turn. He looked at Hannah and mouthed the words 'Thank you', his eyes misty with unshed tears. She nodded and gave him a tired smile. The Delta was losing her, and Castiel was sad to see her go. She was flying home to reconnect with her family in Arkansas as soon as the doctor released her. Castiel was investing in a small bakery in Little Rock, Hannah's home town. He planned on being a silent partner in _Hannah's Heaven_. She had given him more than he could ever repay.  

Together, they watched as nurses cleaned their child. He was weighed, measured, and examined. Castiel took a moment to see how Hannah was doing. She assured him that she was fine and told him to go back to his son.  

The next afternoon, they brought Jeffrey home. Dean bought the best carseat available; unfortunately, Castiel felt he needed a degree in engineering to figure out the system of belts and buckles. The spare room, now converted into a beautiful nursery, was ready and waiting. Dean may have gotten to pick the carseat, but the baby's room was all Castiel. He felt no shame over the fact that he studied pictures on Pinterest for months. He wanted it to fit the décor of the house, and he thought he did a great job. Dean said it was a bit much for a baby, but Castiel knew he liked it. 

The high-tech baby monitor with built-in camera was the one thing they had immediately agreed on, though to be honest, neither of them wanted to leave their new son for even a second.  

Within a week, the house looked like a baby store had an illicit love child with a Mardi Gras parade. The nursery's theme may have been Southern elegance, but their friends and family decided gold, purple, and green were a _must_. They took turns with feedings, but they were both exhausted. Castiel often found Dean sitting in the rocking chair in Jeffrey's room, sound asleep with their son across his chest. It was a familiar sight, but it warmed his heart and filled him with joy every single time. 

The following Monday, Castiel woke to an empty bed. He got up and pulled on his robe. He stopped at the door to the nursery. Dean was swaying back and forth in front of the window, Jeffrey tucked on his shoulder. "And then the handsome prince rode up in a '67 Chevy Impala, all shiny and black. The Angel of Thursday thought he was the sexiest prince ever and agreed to marry him. But a wicked warlock put a curse on the kingdom and tried to kidnap the hot angel. The hot angel pulled out his angel blade... not _that_ kind of blade... keep your mind out of the gutter, little man..." 

Castiel couldn't help laughing and Dean turned around, blushing. "Your story telling abilities need work, Dean." 

"Well, let's see you do better, Pops," Dean smirked. 

"We agreed that I would be Papa, not Pops," Castiel grumbled as he took Jeffrey. "Don't worry, baby boy… Papa will tell you magical stories about the handsome prince that would slay the dragon, save the angel, and kiss hotter than anyone in the whole wide world." He felt Dean's arms slide around him with a chuckle, pressing soft lips to his temple. Together they listened to the sound of their son breathing and felt their two hearts beating as one in a room overflowing with love.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could not have done this without the help of Amanda (a.k.a. G33kDiva). She was a sounding board, a pinch-hitter, and lo and behold, she does photoshop like a freakin' pro. She'll be working on her own stuff as well as continuing (hopefully...Amanda....pretty please) to edit my stuff. The wedding and the 'baby makes three' collages were her creations. Aren't they amazing?
> 
> The song Dean struts down the aisle to is Angel by Aerosmith (Steven Tyler). Give it a listen and imagine Dean Winchester, and his cocky self, heading towards his one true love.
> 
> Thank you for reading and for all of you who left kudos and comments - hugs and kisses.
> 
> For those that don't follow my on Facebook, I give my readers advance readings and other little tidbits. If you want, shoot on over and join our family.   
> https://www.facebook.com/groups/550258875175871/


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